Let Slip the Gods of War
by Cyn Finnegan
Summary: The year is After Colony 203. There hasn't been a major war on Earth or in the Space Colonies for nearly five years. Our pilots are still working hard to help keep the peace. Just days from his retirement as a Preventer field agent, Quatre Raberba Winner goes missing. Who is trying to capture the Gundam pilots, and what's his connection to them?
1. False Dawn

**Gundam Wing: Let Slip the Gods of War**

**Author:** Cyn Finnegan

**Beta:** None yet

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them. I only like to play with them.

**Archive:** (edited), MediaMiner, AO3, deviantArt (slightly edited), Gundam Wing Fans

**Status:** Work in progress.

**Pairings:** 03 x 04 (primary), 01 x RP, 02 x HS, 05 x SP, 06 x 09

**Warning:** This fic features scenes of physical abuse and psychological torture, canon-typical violence, angst, betrayal, mentions of past sexual assault (Trowa), Bara, lemon (eventually), and **possible spoilers** for _New World Order_, _Endless Waltz_, _Preventer Five_ and _The Hand of Sorrow_.

**Summary:** The year is After Colony 203. There hasn't been a major war on Earth or in the Space Colonies for nearly five years. Our pilots are still working hard to help keep the peace they fought so hard to help create. Just days from his retirement as a Preventer field agent, Quatre Raberba Winner goes missing. Who is trying to capture the Gundam pilots, and what's his connection to them?

Part of the "Heroes of the Future" time line.

This story is based on an **unfinished** 2007 story called _Gods of War_, by Starlight Soul.

**Part One: False Dawn**

**Preventer HQ, Washington, DC, July 17th, AC 203**

As he left Lady Une's office and headed for the elevator, Quatre Winner felt better than he had in a long while and it showed in the smile on his face. The forms he'd put in just a few weeks earlier, forms that would permanently transfer him from active field duty to an instructor in the use of firearms, had finally been approved and he couldn't have been happier about it.

Retiring from field duty would mean fewer hours and a _slight_ cut in pay, but to Quatre, it was worth it. He'd get to spend more time at home with Trowa, and with one of them off the hazardous duty roster, it would work the odds in their favor when the time came to adopt a child. Though Trowa's older sister, Catherine, and his own eldest sister, Iria, both offered to act as surrogate mothers, both young men stubbornly opted to try adoption first.

One of the reasons they gave was that there were plenty of kids in orphanages and foster care in need of a permanent home with loving parents, both on Earth and in the Colonies. Another was that Quatre had inherited the reproductive problems that plagued the men in his family for two hundred years [1]. That made him adamant against creating life for the sake of convenience, as he'd spent the first sixteen and a half years of his life believing he had been for his late father.

In other words, for all intents and purposes, he was _the_ last son, but no longer heir, of the Winner family. The majority of his older sisters had seen to _that_ when Quatre was still sixteen and professed his preference in life partners.

Money wasn't an issue, either; neither of the young men were paupers, not by a long shot. Though Trowa received several stipend checks from the Barton Foundation during the war, he and Quatre had both done their fair share of hacking into and pilfering from bank accounts held by various members of Romefeller. While Trowa had done it for fun, Quatre had done it out of necessity due to the growing tensions between he and his father; tensions which often started out in a verbal fight and usually ended with the back of his father's hand across his face. Quatre cut himself off entirely from his family's fortune months before he'd ever left for Earth. [2]

What he and Trowa hadn't spent on ammunition, transportation or the occasional hotel room had been squirreled away in several interest-bearing savings and checking accounts that really started to grow after the war. Part of those funds paid for their home in Fairfax, Trowa's motorcycle, and the bare bones of a vintage pre-Colony Aston-Martin DB5 Silver Birch which had been originally built in 1963 CE. Quatre and Trowa spent weeks rebuilding it, and it was a true labor of love.

With a little help from Hiiro, Duo and Hilde, they re-enforced the frame with Gundanium alloy, and Trowa lovingly built an engine that would conform to the current energy standards. They finished it by recreating the exterior chassis using photos, blueprints and sheets of Gundanium and finally painting it a silvery turquoise blue that almost matched Quatre's eyes. While they were doing that, Quatre worked on his laptop to create a vocal command system for the vehicle and installed it in the car's new internal computer.

The use of Gundanium as a building material wasn't illegal; [3] in fact, all Preventer vehicles, including mobile suits, the cars of many ESUN officials, and the outer shells of several newer colonies were all armored with or constructed out of the nigh-indestructible alloy. Preventer also used Gundanium for their dog tags, and ESUN had even planned to use it for building homes for the now-defunct Mars terraformation project. [4]

Quatre shook himself out of his reverie as the lift car finally reached its destination, the parking garage. He approached his car, using the tiny key chain remote to open the driver's side door, slid into the well-padded driver's seat and buckled himself in.

"Start engine," he said as the belt clicked into place and a moment later, the motor began purring like a contented kitten. Shortly after that, he added the commands "Turn on air conditioner and play music file QRW-12-12-AC195."

The music was Quatre's first-ever birthday present, given to him by Trowa on the lowest day of the tow-headed man's life, his fifteenth birthday. [5] Between the Heavyarms pilot's warm, teenaged counter tenor singing voice and the soft vibrations of the motor, the Sandrock pilot felt all the day's tension drain from his body. Trowa's singing had always had the power to soothe and calm him, and this time was no exception.

Realizing he was now a little _too_ tired to drive himself home, he engaged the car's autodrive function, but kept his hands resting on the steering wheel so an overeager local LEO with a ticket quota to fill wouldn't pull him over again. As he pulled out into the late afternoon traffic, Quatre directed the voice system to turn on the vidphone and call home.

"_Hello, love,_" Trowa's image said fondly, a gentle smile gracing his handsome face. He was at home on medical leave for spraining his knee the day before while fending off a gang of thugs who seemed awfully determined to get him into the back of their van.

"Hi yourself, sexy britches," the Sandrock pilot replied with a smile of his own as his car guided itself out of the building's garage. "I heard back about my transfer and I'm on my way home. Starting next Monday morning, I'll be a lowly firearms instructor."

"_You're hardly a "lowly" anything, Cat. The babies will be lucky to have you for a teacher. So how did Lady Une take the news that you want to retire as a field agent?_"

"Surprisingly, she was fine with it. If anything, considering all of the shit we've gone through over the past few years, she was only mildly surprised that Hiiro, Duo, Wu Fei and you _weren't_ following suit. She _did_ add in a stipulation, though."

"_Which was?_"

"That I, and I'm quoting her here, "take on the occasional case" that requires my unique skill set."

"_Makes sense that she'd want to keep one of her master strategists on hand, just in case,_" Trowa quipped sagely. "_Where _are_ you?_"

"In the car, on my way home," Quatre replied, and then yawned. At Trowa's concerned look, and his own suppressed yawn, he added "Don't worry, _muhib_. [6] I engaged the autodrive before I left the parking lot, so I'm not driving tired. I'll be home in half an hour. Wanna go out to dinner to celebrate?"

"_Sure thing. Want me to call L'Orange and see if we can get in tonight?_"

"Nah, I was thinking of Donovan's Pub. We don't need reservations, and I'm in the mood for a cheeseburger with the works, some cole slaw and onion rings, a chocolate shake and a warm brownie sundae for dessert."

"_You know, if you keep eating like Duo, you're going to get fat,_" Trowa mock groused.

"Then there'll be more of me to love," Quatre replied playfully. They both laughed, knowing that with the changes they'd all undergone in preparation for Operation Meteor, the likelihood of any Gundam pilot getting fat was impossible at best.

Their bodies had been altered to process food more efficiently, wringing the maximum nutritional value out of anything they consumed, solid or liquid, and disposing of anything they didn't need. They also healed faster than the average human, which was why Quatre was sitting up on his own and talking with Trowa within hours of waking up from surgery.

"_All right, I'm gonna get off the line now, haul my gimpy ass to the bathroom, take a shower and get ready for dinner. I'll see you in a few._"

"Okay, Tro. I'm about to hit the freeway, so I've gotta hang up. I love you," Quatre said, then raised his left hand to his mouth, kissed his callused fingertips and touched them to the image of his husband's face.

"_I love you, too, Cat. Be careful,_" Trowa replied before repeating his husband's gesture.

"Always am, _muhib_. See you in a little while."

"_You too, love._"

The traffic was light that day, so the trip down the throughway didn't take long at all. Soon, he got to his exit and pulled on to the access road, then turned onto the tree-lined country lane that would take him home. He and Trowa loved it out here; the air was much cooler and cleaner than in the city, so he commanded the car to turn off the air conditioner and open the windows to let some of that fresh air in. The cool breeze that blew in the windows did a better job of reviving him than a cup of the thick, strong coffee Quatre favored did.

A few moments later, Quatre heard a horn honking behind him, and that was when he saw the black sport utility vehicle that had been on his six while driving on the throughway. Berating himself for letting his guard down, Quatre scanned the vehicle and its occupants through the rearview mirror and didn't like what he was seeing.

_Three men, two ex-military, probably Alliance or OZ, one ex-pro wrestler judging from his size... black suits, Ray-Bans... yup, they've got that whole "Hong Kong kung fu bad-ass movie mook" look down pat,_ the tow-headed man thought as he reached out the window and waved at the driver of the other vehicle to pass. In response, the huge SUV sped up, made like they were going to pass him, and then rammed into the Aston-Martin's side, denting the passengers' side door slightly and nearly forcing it off the road and into a tree.

"What the Hell? Are these guys _insane?!_" Quatre exclaimed to no one. The black SUV swerved again, ramming broadside into the front of Quatre's car and sending it crashing in to a roadside ditch. The airbags deployed as it struck the ground grille first, and he threw his arms up in front of his face to prevent his nose from being broken.

Quatre groaned as he crawled out of his wrecked vehicle, his head ringing and his arms aching and tingling from his shoulders to his wrists. He was battered, bruised, abraded in several places and had a small cut just under his hairline, but thanks to the Gundanium armor that made up the car's frame and exterior, those were the worst of his injuries. In fact, Quatre's Preventer uniform fared far worse than his body did. Despite the fact it was labeled "safety glass," the rounded, pebble-like fragments from the shattered back window embedded themselves deep into the back of his jacket, scraping the flesh underneath it through both the quilted lining and his khaki t-shirt. [7]

He heard the doors of the SUV open and close, and soon found himself surrounded by the three men he'd spotted.

"This skinny little twerp is a _Gundam pilot_?! Could'a fooled me," the first man quipped, not believing that the seemingly frail form before them could possibly be a Preventer, much less the pilot a mobile suit as advanced as a Gundam.

"Yeah, he's a Gundam pilot, all right," the second man replied mockingly for Quatre's benefit. "Pilot Zero Four, to be precise. I've had the "pleasure" of meeting him and Zero One on Moon Base Alpha when I was with OZ. This little piece of colony trash blew up a resource satellite full of our soldiers and an evacuated colony before we finally managed to stop him. We would have executed him on the spot, but we handed them over to the Treize Faction instead."

_Oh, Allah, talk about revisionist history!_ Quatre thought angrily. He remembered all too well exactly who stopped his ZERO-influenced rampage, and it sure as Hell wasn't _this_ scummy piece of OZ shit. Anger quickly turned to sorrow when his thoughts turned to the one who _did_ stop him that horrible day, the one who risked his own life to keep Quatre from becoming the monster many told him he was since childhood.

Without warning, the thug Quatre had tagged as an ex-wrestler lifted him up by the waistband of his pants, and growling "Stand up," set him on his feet. The second thug reached into Quatre's jacket and pulled his piece, a Sig Sauer P250 Subcompact Nitron, out of its shoulder holster.

"Get in the truck, Zero Four. Willing or unwilling, you're coming with _us_," the first man ordered, still thinking of Quatre as nothing but a pipsqueak rich boy still playing games instead of the highly-trained soldier he truly was.

"Sorry, but I don't take orders from anybody but Lady Une," the blond-haired man growled angrily, crossing his arms over his chest.

"This _isn't_ an order, Zero Four; it's a _request_ from Kronus," the former OZ soldier said gruffly as he lifted Quatre's gun and pressed it against the back of his head.

Quatre's eyes widened at the mention of that name. Kronus was one of his first trainers and the source of some of his oldest wartime nightmares. He was a sadistic madman who took an almost childlike delight in the pain he inflicted and who had an unhealthy obsession with the then-teenaged boy. If Instructor H hadn't been concerned when Quatre missed his self-defense training that last day... he might have been too damaged, mentally _and_ physically, to ever pilot Sandrock.

"That's great, but _I don't honor requests from __**FUCKING SADISTIC MADMEN, EITHER!**_"

Utilizing every trick he'd ever learned during his pilots' training, the lithe, tow-headed young man fought back valiantly against his would-be kidnappers, at least until one of them tossed a grenade at his feet. Instead of an explosion, Quatre's body was surrounded by a cone of energy that made him feel like he'd been dropped head first into an active volcano. He screamed as excruciating pain lanced through every nerve in his entire body as he fell to the ground convulsing.

Just before he passed out, his mind, heart and soul cried out one name...

_: Trowa... I'm sorry... :_ Quatre thought as guilt, fear, remorse, despair and pain filled his heart.

The three hundred pound mass of muscle again lifted the younger man's now inert form, carried him over his shoulder to the battered SUV, lifted the hatch and literally threw him in the back while his comrades got in.

Meanwhile, in the master bedroom of their Fairfax home, a half-naked Triton Bloom-Winner felt a massive wave of guilt, fear, remorse, despair and pain that were not his own. He collapsed to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut, his entire body twitching like a landed fish. Just before he passed out, his mind, heart and soul cried out one name...

_: __**QUATRE...!**__ :_

**Undisclosed Location, July 17th, AC 203**

Quatre awoke to find himself in a small, windowless room, lying face down on a dusty, foul-smelling foam mattress. He was stripped of every last stitch of clothing and, for the second time in his life, his hair had been shaved off, leaving the pale skin of his scalp bare and smooth. Like the oxygen in the colonies, the air being pumped into the little room, or rather cell, was stale and processed smelling, but Quatre knew he was still on the Earth. He'd only been out for maybe ninety minutes, and it still took the fastest shuttles almost four hours to reach the nearest colonies.

_What is it with these assholes and shaving my head?_ the Sandrock pilot wondered, remembering when he and the other Gundam pilots battled the leader of the so-called pacifist faction, Pax Eterna, in early AC 196. The faction's leader, Victor Gaintz, had some of his followers kidnap him, killing nearly a thousand people by bombing an intercolony trade conference to cover the crime, then shot him up with massive doses of truth serum and tortured him with electric shocks in an attempt to force him into revealing where he and the others had hidden their Gundams. [8]

Though he nearly died in the process, he didn't break. He held on and stayed strong until help, in the form of Trowa, came to the rescue. Until the ransom demand arrived at his apartment in L3-C8253, the only one who believed he was still alive and in danger had been Trowa, and for that, Quatre was grateful...

A few minutes later, an oily voice whispered into his ear, bringing the Sandrock pilot back to reality.

"Hello, little Shulmanu. You remember me, don't you? You were always my favorite, a true god amongst mortals. Tell me how to find the others."

"Go... _fuck_... yourself," the tow-headed man ground out haltingly, then spat in his eye. In retaliation, the scar-faced man backhanded Quatre into the nearest wall. As he sagged to the floor, the man grabbed Quatre's left arm and tore the wedding band, which Trowa had made from scraps of the original Heavyarms, off that hand's ring finger.

"_No...!_ Give... that... _back!_" he cried, trying to reclaim the band with his free hand.

"You won't need _this_ little trinket anymore, my sweet little Quatre," he added in an almost sing-song voice as handed the ring to one of his men. "Your Neit won't find you, and neither will Hachiman, nor Woden, nor Zhang Fei;[9] I'll find _them_ first, with _your_ help. You're _mine_, and I'll have my little Gods of War back with me."

"I'll help you... _when Hell boils over!_"

Still holding Quatre's left arm, the man calling himself Kronus jabbed the Sandrock pilot's arm with the business end of a hypodermic needle, its contents burning through his veins like liquid fire as the drug cocktail flooded his system, and more burning filled his eyes they were filled with a noxious liquid. As the men left his cell, lights and images began to pulse and disembodied voices began to throb as the drugs took a hold of his system, Quatre's screams of agony his only response as his world narrowed to naught but excruciating pain.

**The home of Trowa Bloom and Quatre Winner, Fairfax, VA, July 17th, AC 203**

Trowa was a wreck.

It had been nearly three hours since Quatre's call had ended, and Trowa was close to having something he hadn't had since he was fourteen, a full-blown panic attack.[10] He knew his husband was in danger, knew he was cold and afraid and in pain, but at the moment, Trowa was helpless to aid or comfort him.

Somehow, he'd managed to get up off the floor, hobbled to the phone, punched three buttons and called his sister Catherine and her husband, Abdul Kurama, a member of Quatre's Maguanac Corps. [11] The couple arrived about fifteen minutes after Trowa called them, and he silently thanked God that he gave his sister a copy of the front door key. They helped her younger brother into the family room, settled him as comfortably as possible on the sofa. Abdul kissed his wife on the cheek and made a beeline to the kitchen to make coffee.

The State Police came by a few moments later, letting him know about the crash and handing him the only thing they'd found at the site: a gift-wrapped package and an envelope with his name on it. When he unwrapped and opened it, the box revealed a matched pair of throwing daggers housed in a pair of leather wrist sheaths with a trick release and a humorously snotty birthday card. The blades were a present for his birthday five days from then. [12]

While Abdul puttered about in the kitchen, Cathy called the other Gundam pilots using the codes the pilots and the Corps developed during the Earth-Space War. Two calls and ten minutes later, and the pretty knife thrower reported her results to her sibling.

"I got a hold of Wu Fei and Sally," she said in a concerned tone. "They're in town right now, so they'll be here in about an hour. I couldn't get a hold of Duo, but I _did_ talk to Hilde. He and Hiiro are wrapping up a case on Duo's home colony. They'll be back on Earth in a few hours. Hilde said that she and Relena will pick them up at New Andrews Spaceport and they'll be here around seven."

"Cathy, you know the last words we said to each other were "I love you"?" Trowa asked his sister as she took the tray from her husband and set it down.

In response, Catherine replied with a quiet "I know," wrapped her slender, strong arms around her little brother's shaking shoulders and kissed his smooth, clean-shaven cheek while Abdul patted Trowa's back. He couldn't feel either gesture; all he could feel was the pain and terror wracking Quatre's body and mind and the tears burning down his cheeks.

The backwash of Quatre's emotions was driving Trowa mad, and he had to do something about it. With great effort, Trowa rebuilt the walls he'd torn down towards the end of the Earth-Space War, effectively cutting off the empathic and telepathic links he and Quatre shared, which also stemmed the flow of tears. The pain of it tore at Trowa's heart and mind, but he had to do it for the sake of his sanity, which he was hanging on to by the thinnest of fraying threads.

Once his head was clear, Trowa asked Cathy and Abdul to stay until the others got there, and finally noticed that his big sister had a slight, tell-tale bulge to her belly and was told the baby would be due in mid-December. Though Abdul was hoping for a girl, he backpedaled and said that he'd be happy with either a girl or a boy, as long as the baby was healthy. With his mask back in place, he could feel happy for the couple, but that happiness wouldn't be felt until Quatre was home and safe.

An hour later, the doorbell chimed signaling that Wu Fei and Sally had arrived, and both were visibly upset that Quatre seemed to have gotten himself in danger again. As they came in, Cathy and Abdul left without saying goodbye. The less they knew, the less could betray and it wasn't as if they'd be much help with whatever insane plans the boys were going to make.

At seven on the dot, the car carrying Hiiro, Relena, Duo and Hilde pulled up to the curb in front of the Winner-Bloom residence, and all four got out of the vehicle and quickly entered. With everyone there, Trowa told his friends what the police told him, and what he knew from his links to Quatre. Everyone sitting in the room had tested positive as a Newtype years ago, so they didn't scoff at Trowa. He and Quatre were deeply bonded to each other; so much so they feared that if one died, the other would quickly follow, either by suicide or by force of will.

An hour later, the cinnamon-haired man finally finished briefing his comrades, his stoic mask firmly in place, and that worried the others. It meant he'd shut down the one advantage they had, the mental and emotional connections between him and the tow-headed pilot, and though it was saving Trowa's sanity, it would make any rescue attempt far more difficult.

"We'll _find_ him, Trowa," Duo finally said, a look of grim determination on his face. "We'll all look for him, and we won't stop until we bring 'im home. _No one_ hurts a member of _my family_ and gets away with it."

"This _isn't_ a coincidence, Duo," Trowa replied, looking at each of the others in turn. "Think about it for a moment... I was attacked and nearly abducted yesterday, and Cat gets ambushed and kidnapped _today_? And what about you guys? Has anything similar happened to you in the last few days?"

The three Gundam pilots looked at each other, and then began to tell their tales. Several men accosted Hiiro the same day Trowa was attacked, but he believed they were after Relena because of her former position as Vice Foreign Minister[13] and fought them off successfully. Duo and Wu Fei had been attacked, earlier that very day, but they were backed up by Hilde and Sally.

"Trowa's right," Wu Fei finally said with conviction. "This _wasn't_ a random crime against _one_ of us...this was all _planned_ from the get-go. Whoever's behind this is after _all five_ of us, and whoever they are or whatever their reasons, they're not gonna stop until they get us... or _we_ get _them_."

As the four Gundams and their companions all nodded in agreement, Hiiro finally chimed in with "I think it's time to implement "03's "Oh, shit" plan," then sat in front of Trowa's desktop, booted it up, and clicked on a file icon.

_**To be continued...**_

**- - = = 000 = = - -**

**Author's Notes:** This story is based on an old Hiiro/Duo fic that was last updated seven years ago. I've tried several times to contact the original author about either continuing it herself or letting me adopt or adapt it before I started this. If she's reading this, I'm sorry. I liked the original, but the more I read of it, the more it seemed like a Trowa/Quatre fic than a Duo/Hiiro one, and the more it needed (in my not-so-humble opinion) this "how did this shit happen" chapter **and** the final one. This is also going to be one of my shorter multi-chapter ones; ten in total.

The title of this chapter comes from a phenomenon that's also called Zodiacal light. It's an eerie light extending up from the horizon, and you're most likely to see it about an hour after sunset in late winter or early spring (Zodiacal light), or an hour before dawn in the late summer or early autumn (false dawn). Here's a link with more information: earthsky astronomy-essentials/ look-for-the-zodiacal-light-or-false-dawn.

Here are some photos of what Quatre's 1963 Aston-Martin DB5 looks like: www. sunshine automotive. com. au/ sites/ sunshine automotive .com. au/ files/ Aston-Martin-DB5. jpg and cdn. aston martin site finity /new-db9 /history db5. jpg? sfvrsn = 0 (block and copy the addresses, then paste them to Notepad and remove the spaces).

And here are some photos and the specs on Quatre's pistol: www. sig sauer Catalog Product Details/ p250 -subcompact -nitron .aspx.

**Annotations:**

[1] According to one of the animation bibles for the series, the **men** in the Winner family were the ones who suffered with reproductive issues, not the women. In my head canon, while all of Quatre's sisters can have babies naturally, many of them had theirs via test tube to keep their figures. The sole exceptions to this are Iria and Amina. And the bit about Quatre's original dislike of creating human life for the sake of convenience came from Sumizawa years **before** _Glory of Losers_ and _Frozen Teardrop_ were first dreamed up.

[2] In _The Whereabouts of Happiness_ (Ep. 11), Quatre revealed to Duo that he'd disinherited himself, meaning that he cut himself off from his family's money and resources so he could come to Earth and fight against OZ and the Alliance.

[3] In my head canon, Gundanium alloy _wasn't_ banned for use across the board, just for the manufacture of _new_ mobile suits. Since they were built before the ban took place, the Gundams I've listed in my Post-Endless Waltz fics were exempt from it. Hell, mobile suits in general are still legal in my HC; since the series' official timeline establishes that they were first used for colony construction and space mining, that's mostly what they're used for.

[4] The full tale will be revealed in _The Hand of Sorrow_. It'll also explain why Zechs and Noin appear in later chapters of this fic.

[5] According to several information sites I've found on Islam and the Muslim faith, the only birthday Muslims celebrate is Muhammad's.

[6] _Muhib_ (or _muHibb_) is Arabic for "lover."

[7] This comes from personal experience; I cut one of my fingers on some once. Though it turns into pellets rather than shards when it breaks, safety glass _will_ cut you with enough force/pressure behind it, but it won't slice you into ribbons or impale you.

[8] Shulmanu, Neit, Hachiman, Woden and Zhang Fei are all war gods from different parts of the world: Shulmanu, Mesopotamian; Neit, Irish; Hachiman, Japanese; Woden, Anglo-Saxon, and Zhang Fei, Chinese. Of all of them, Zhang Fei was a human general who was deified after his death and, in my head canon at least, is one of Wu Fei's earliest ancestors. They are the code names given to our pilots by Kronus (the guy who's after them), and go in this order: Shulmanu (Quatre), Neit (Trowa), Hachiman (Hiiro), Woden (Duo) and Zhang Fei (Wu Fei).

[9] Reference to my fic New World Order.

[10] This is from my rewrite of the series.

[11] Head canon again. I love Cathy and Abdul as a couple.

[12] According to an article, the boys were all born in AC 180, and their birthdays are as follows: Duo, February 2nd; Trowa, July 22nd; Hiiro, August 8th; Wu Fei and Quatre, December 12th.

[13] Yes, I said **former** VFM. I have Relena rethinking her career choice in between _Preventer Five_ and _Hand of Sorrow_. It takes her a while, but she decides to drop out of politics and become a Preventer just before _Hand of Sorrow_. Her agent code name is Siren and she works mostly in communications and hostage negotiation. Her replacement? That's going to be revealed in another story.

**Next Chapter:** Six long, lonely, agonizing weeks have passed since Quatre's abduction... but what happens when Trowa finally locates and rescues him? Why was he kidnapped in the first place? And what does it have to do with the "improvements" made to the Gundam pilots prior to Operation Meteor?

Next, on _**Gundam Wing: Let Slip the Gods of War - Nightmares**_.


	2. Nightmares

**Disclaimers, Warnings, Ratings, Archive, Etc.:** See Chapter One.

**Chapter Two: ****Nightmares**

**August 28th, AC 203**

All he felt was all-encompassing, never-ending pain. Beyond it there was nothing, and before it was beyond his mental grasp. Was there _anything_ before the pain? He couldn't be sure. The pain held his thoughts hostage and caused his body to betray him without fail. Time no longer had any meaning to him; minutes and hours were replaced by the ebb and flow of pain, and days and weeks by consciousness and the blessed void. He was naked and helpless against it.

There was neither silence nor darkness in his pain, either. They realized early on that silence didn't bother him, but that was a lie; the _lack_ of sound would have worn on his nerves. Instead, a cacophony of disembodied voices and a spectrum of images and lights echoed and bounced off of the concrete walls of his cell. They spoke in a dozen languages, some fast and harsh, others slow and smooth, until they all blurred and melded together into a huge, cacophonous noise. He didn't know why he found them so soothing. Pain ruled, drowning out his memory; it flared in his arm and he cried out weakly.

"Tell me where they go to hide," the voices demanded.

Who did they want? He couldn't remember; all he knew, without a doubt, was that he couldn't tell this prick what he wanted to know. He _had_ to protect the people he wanted to find, whoever they were. He could see their familiar faces when he closed his eyes, but couldn't connect those faces to a specific memory. A moment later, another wave of pain surged through his veins, demanding that he stop being so damned stubborn and tell the man what he wanted to know.

"No," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely recognizable to his own ears. Hours of screaming in agony had left his throat rough and raw.

His unseeing eyes widened as white hot pain rolled along his skin to pour into his mouth and nose, choking him and burning everything it touched, only to disappear as quickly as it began. A blurred shadow entered his field of vision, and more burning filled his eyes. The captor's mouth was suddenly next to his ear, his poisonous voice riding in with the pain.

"Answer my questions, little Shulmanu, and I'll make the pain go away."

He hated himself for flinching, for the soft whimper that escaped his cracked, dry lips, but then the pain laughed at him, taunted and mocked him for his weakness. It whispered dark promises of all the ways they could be together; that he belonged to it and it would never let him go.

"_**NO!**_"

He gasped as the pain engulfed him again, this time in an icy Arctic blast that felt like a billion frozen tattoo needles crawling just under his flesh. It ate away at his senses, destroying him bit by bit before reassembling all the pieces. He tried to fight against it with all of his might, but to no avail. He knew he couldn't hold out for much longer. Eventually, he would tell them whatever they wanted to know, and he wouldn't be able to stop himself from talking.

Before the arctic wave could end, more pain blossomed in his chest. A furious kick to his ribcage exploded with different kind of agony as he heard the sickening crack of bones breaking. His considerable stamina finally giving out to this round of torture, Quatre Winner-Bloom felt the abyss wrap his naked, prone body in its cold, dark embrace as the pain settled in, content to wait for consciousness to return.

**- - = = 000 = = - -**

How long he'd lain in wait, he didn't know, nor did he care; time held no meaning for him, only the life of his loved one mattered, and the ones who took him would pay dearly for every moment of pain they'd put the both of them through these past few weeks. He'd secured himself in a ventilation shaft above a men's lavatory, and waited for someone close to his size to show up. When, at last, someone did enter the restroom, he quietly slipped out of his hiding place, choked the man into unconsciousness, then stripped his enemy and left him lying in a heap on the cheap linoleum floor.

Finally, clothed in the uniform of his enemy and carrying a black rucksack, silent death stalked among them.

Fury now burned in his deep emerald green eyes as he hacked into the enemy's system. Within moments, he'd taken down their pitiful firewalls, cracked their encryption codes and downloaded everything he needed to, from where his target was located to a list of what drugs they'd given him, their effects and side effects. His lips pulled back in a dangerous, feral snarl as he copied every last byte of information he'd come for, then uploaded his viruses and set the last of his bombs. One slender, calloused hand caressed the thin detonator before he shoved it in the pocket of his "borrowed" jacket and once again hid in plain sight.

As he neared the location of the holding cells, one of the viruses he uploaded triggered the fire suppression system. Red strobe lights and klaxon alarms went off as the overhead sprinklers dropped down, spraying tepid water everywhere. All around the building, electronic locks opened and people ran in all directions, heedless of the solitary stranger among them. Water pooled on the concrete floor, making his footing hazardous, and by the time he reached the wing they held their captive in, Trowa Bloom-Winner was soaked to the skin.

He was surprised to see one door still closed as he reached his destination, but more surprising was the line of locks down it; they were simple tumbler ones, designed for strength rather than complexity. It took him less than a minute to open them all, giving him access to the target within.

A riot of lights, scents and sounds assaulted his senses as soon as the door opened, chief among them the stench of fresh and stale urine. A filthy foam mattress pressed against the wall caught his attention, the naked creature lying prostrate upon it a shock. Pale skin stood in stark contrast to the black and purple bruises that littered the form, while bones stood out in sharp relief where smooth, strap like muscles had once been. His once-shoulder length sunlight blond hair had been shorn; the smooth cap that was left was greasy and matted to his scalp, and his darting, bloodshot turquoise blue eyes seemed to see nothing, not even his husband and lover.

"Quatre?!" Trowa exclaimed softly. The answering whimper nearly floored him as he moved to his partner's side and took in the enormity of the horror he found. Screams rent the air as soon as Trowa's fingertips made contact with Quatre's bare back. After a moment, he was able to make out the words.

They were "_**FUCK YOU! I WON'T TELL!**_"

The British pilot knew they were running out of time, so he pulled a light blanket out of his rucksack and wrapped it around Quatre's naked form, then scooped him up and began to make a mad dash towards their ride. They'd barely made it down two hallways before Trowa realized he had to do something. Quatre's screams were drawing too much attention to them, and that was the _last_ thing they needed.

"I'm sorry, love," Trowa murmured before applying a well-placed nerve pinch to the blond-haired man's neck, knocking him unconscious.

Trowa cradled Quatre's now-slight form as he rushed from the building. Luck seemed to be with him for a change; no one tried to block their escape. They were almost to the black minivan he'd picked out when a voice started on the loudspeaker. He carefully settled Quatre into the passenger seat and buckled him in. He didn't bother with his own seat belt, just threw the car into first gear and sped off, tires hitting the asphalt of the main road just as he gleefully pressed the detonator while he pushed the powerful engine to its limits.

As soon as he was sure they weren't being followed, he pulled over and retrieved his tablet and cell phone from the floor near Quatre's feet. He jammed the tablet into the seat beside Quatre and booted it up before hitting the first number on the phone's speed dial.

"_Zero Three,_" Hiiro Yui said, having picked up halfway through the first ring. "_Mission accomplished?_"

"Roger that, Zero One," an angry Trowa Bloom replied. "It's bad... I don't know what the Hell these bastards _did_ to Zero Four, but it's _bad_. I'm sending Sally everything I've retrieved from their databases. Tell her to follow plan three and then all of you fly. I've a really bad feeling about this. I'm ditching this cell as soon as I hang up, but I'll keep in touch. Stay safe and tell the others. See you soon."

Trowa closed the phone and lobbed it into the back of a passing garbage truck, then tried splitting his attention between his tablet and keeping the car on the road. He sent the files he'd retrieved to Sally Po-Chang before shutting it down and settling in to drive.

As Trowa kept his eyes on the road, he began to worry about what would happen when Quatre woke up. They'd been driving for close to two hours before it happened. His breathing changed first; the slow, deep and steady rhythm suddenly became sharp, shallow and pained. Whimpers like those made by a wounded animal told him just how much pain his partner was in.

"Cat? You still _with_ me, love?" Trowa asked softly.

Quatre sat trembling, bloodshot turquoise blue eyes wide and vacant, murmuring "Won't tell" over and over, and shrank into his seat as though expecting an attack. Forcing his growing panic down before Quatre could pick up on and react to it, Trowa tried another tactic.

"Zero Four, what's your status?"

Quatre's unseeing eyes opened to their widest as his face contorted into a silent scream and his body arched as though a bolt of lightning were being run through it. Trowa reached out to touch Quatre, and was shocked to feel the hairs on his arm standing up on end with the telltale feeling of static electricity.

"_Íosa!_" Trowa swore in Irish as he crossed three lanes of traffic, then jumped onto the exit for the nearest rest stop. [1] He was glad for the early hour; there was no one at the rest stop alert enough to see him dig through his bag frantically. Fumbling around for a moment, he finally managed to dig out the scanner he needed and slowly ran it over Quatre's tortured form. He swore vehemently as he found the electrodes on his chest and removed them, dropping them on the back seat for study later. Quatre whimpered in his seat, his eyes still glazed.

"Come on, baby, snap out of it."

"No-no-no, no more, never tell," Quatre mumbled, even as his eyes started to close.

Trowa ran his hands through his hair, tugging on it, and hoped to finally wake up from this nightmare. He fastened his seat belt and forced himself to calm down and return to driving. They were still over an hour away from Sally and the safe house. He tried to shut down, to convince himself that everything would be fine, but it wasn't working. Even in his unconscious state, Quatre whimpered and moaned as though in great pain.

When they finally reached the safe house, Sally was at the door, waiting for them with a pair of fuzzy blue spa socks in her hands. Trowa gathered Quatre up in his arms like a child and silently thanked God that they were miles away from anywhere as Quatre once again opened his mouth and started screaming.

"Get him in that bed over there," Sally ordered gently, pointing to the twin bed in the corner. "He'll probably stop once you set him down."

Trowa followed the pretty doctor's orders and placed Quatre on the bed, afraid to know what she meant, but desperate to keep his husband and lover from being hurt further. Then and only then did he see why Sally had a pair of socks with her as she slipped them on Quatre's icy cold feet.

"It's okay, Quatre. Take it easy, you're safe now," Trowa murmured as he pulled the comforter over Quatre's body. Immediately, the tow-headed man's screams ceased and he clumsily snuggled into the cover.

"Sally, what the Hell did they _do_ to him?" Trowa demanded as he spun, emerald green flames focused on the pretty doctor.

"According to the files you sent me, these guys had _previous knowledge_ of Quatre's unique physiology. They knew what his pain tolerance and endurance levels were and started from there. They've been feeding him a cocktail of designer drugs that's been specifically tailored to his body, and the list is revolting. Mood enhancers and neural sensitizers to screw up his empathy, belladonna based drops to blur his vision... and they've been pumping him full of stimulants to keep him conscious throughout much of his torture. You know about the nanites H put in his system, right?"

"Yeah, we've _all_ got them, even though I was only a mechanic and Barton's back-up pilot at first," the cinnamon-haired Heavyarms pilot answered numbly. At Sally's confused look, Trowa elaborated with "A couple of months before Operation M started, Trowa Barton... the _real_ one... beat me, raped me and left me to bleed to death in my own quarters. Doktor S gave me _his_ nanites to save my life."[2]

"Well, this guy knows how to use them _against_ you. He kept Quatre drugged, helpless and in constant pain. They even tried to use sound to wear him down," Sally ranted.

"Plus lights and images," added Trowa angrily.

"But they didn't _break_ him, Trowa. God save him, he _didn't_ break. Now, we just have to wait and let the drugs wear off. I won't risk doing more damage by trying to give him a more thorough exam until then."

Usually steady hands, hands that could fit together the tiniest gears together in a hot minute, started to tremble, and the tremors moved up his arms and down his body. Tears burned at his eyes as he struggled to breathe and Trowa recognized what it was; the beginnings of a panic attack. Just as he was sure his knees would buckle out from under him, Sally wrapped her slender, strong arms around his chest and maneuvered him to the couch before his legs collapsed.

"Damn it, Trowa, either _cry_ it out or _talk_ it out," she mumbled as she held him. Emerald green eyes, wide and watery, lifted to meet her light periwinkle blue ones. "I need you to have a level head, and _he_ needs you to stay calm 'til the drugs are out of his system."

"Six weeks," he gasped, trying to force his breathing back to normal. "How the Hell did he get _that bad_ in six fecking weeks? Who could have _done_ this to him? And why _now_, when the last war's been over for almost five fecking years? I - I just want to wrap my arms around him and tell him he's safe now, but thanks to these bastards, I can't even do _that much_ for him!"

"Give him an hour or two, _then_ you can touch him again. And to answer the question you're _not_ asking me, no, I _don't_ think they raped him. I can't be sure until we're in a safer location so I can examine him more thoroughly, but..."

Before Trowa could take even a small bit of comfort in her words, the alarm from Sally's computer blared, causing their heads to snap up. Guilt and grief were pushed aside as the pair of old friends and comrades checked the monitor screen. The people who had Quatre were flying up the gravel road towards them at a high rate of speed, and would be at the safe house within minutes.

"Shite! Bug out!" Trowa snapped, but Sally was already moving.

Grabbing several bags of medical supplies, she bolted for the car, leaving Trowa to grab Quatre. Trowa wrapped the comforter around Quatre, then scooped him up and rushed to follow. Quatre's lack of screams were a small blessing. He dropped Quatre on the back seat and jumped in the driver's seat. Starting the van, they tore away from the house and down the back driveway.

"Press the blue button on the bottom of my tablet and toss it out behind us," the Heavyarms pilot ordered. Sally did as she was told and was surprised when Trowa floored the accelerator. Thirty seconds later, the world shook under the force of the blast. A secondary explosion announced that the closest car's undercarriage had succumbed to the heat and shrapnel.

"Do you guys always carry around _that many_ explosives?" questioned Sally ruefully.

"With Duo Maxwell around? What do _you_ think?" Trowa smirked. "Grab the cell phone out of the glove box and toss it here."

"Then Noin was right; you're _all_ pyromaniacs," Sally quipped sarcastically as handed him the phone. "What are you thinking?"

Trowa punched up a pair of numbers on the speed dial, and it was answered halfway through the first ring.

"05, we've been compromised. Ditch all of your electronics and buy new ones. The kidnappers had _intimate knowledge_ on 04, probably a former handler or trainer, and there's a possible leak in Preventer. Call 01; he'll pass the message on to 02 and the girls. Tell him we're all going on a little trip back in time, and the coordinates are located in "03's oh, shit plan"[3] that only the nine of us know about."

"_Where's Sally?_" 05 questioned.

Sally took the phone from Trowa and said "Right here, honey, and we're as safe as houses for now."

"_How's Quatre?_"

"I'll explain when we meet up later, okay?"

"_All right. Be careful, _Xīn'ài."[4]

"I will, baby. Here's Trowa."

Trowa took back the cell phone and said "05... Wu Fei… please, _don't_ get caught. Bug out, stay safe and warn the others. We'll see you soon."

After a curt "Roger that" from Wu Fei, Trowa ended the call and handed the phone back to Sally, who promptly put the device back in the glove box. Neither she nor Trowa could pass on the knowledge they both possessed; that their leader, the _heart_ of their team, was down. They couldn't shake their comrades' faith until he was there to help Trowa watch their backs.

_**To be continued...**_

**- - = = 000 = = - -**

**Author's Notes:** I apologize for the delays on my other stories, but I **am** working on them, too. I'm working on a borrowed Dell laptop that likes to crash every time it gets even the tiniest bit warm, and it's rather frustrating to get into a groove and then BOOM, the stupid thing shows a blue crash screen and you've lost most of your new paragraphs. If I didn't set RoughDraft to save every five minutes, I'd give up writing alltogether.

**Annotations:**

[1] In my head canon, Trowa and Catherine are English and Irish on their late father's side (the name Bloom), and Russian on their late mother's, so Trowa can speak some Irish Gaelic and Russian, mostly cuss words. _Íosa_ is Irish for Jesus.

[2] See my rewrite of "Scenario for Bloodshed," coming soon.

[3] I mentioned this in Chapter One, and I'll reveal some of the details in _Up On Heaven's Boulevard_.

[4] Mandarin Chinese for "beloved."

**Next Chapter:** Remembering little of his captivity, Quatre awakens in Trowa's arms. As they and Sally meet up with Duo and Hiiro, memories of their training begin to surface, and Sally discovers that she, too, is infected with nanites.

**Next, on **_**Gundam Wing: Let Slip the Gods of War - Dawn**_**.**


	3. Dawn

**Disclaimers, Warnings, Ratings, Archive, Etc.:** See Chapter One.

**Part Three: Dawn**

Warmth, familiar and yet something from a distant dream, surrounded him. He hurt; every bit of his being seemed to be wrapped up in a haze of pain, and yet not. It wasn't the blinding pain that stole his mind and his sense of time, but it was _pain_ nonetheless. He was afraid to open his eyes, afraid of what lurked in the shadows, bringing the pain with them, afraid that maybe his eyes would refuse to see. He tried to move his arms and fight back, but they still felt too heavy to budge.

"Shh. It's okay, Cat, I've got you," murmured a warm, gentle voice near his ear, causing Quatre to nearly jump out of his skin. A heavy weight slid under his left shoulder and he landed in a heap in their lap. One hand weakly clasped another as he forced his turquoise blue eyes open. His vision was badly distorted, so he could just barely make out the familiar head of light brown hair in the seat in front of him.

"Sally? Trowa?" he croaked pleadingly, then closed his eyes again.

"Yeah, it's us. Sorry it took me so long to find you, love," Trowa explained gently. "They always seemed to be one step _ahead_ of us, and they never kept you in one location for very long. I decided to play bait, without Preventer's backing. They tried to nab me and they led me to you. Preventer has a leak."

Quatre trembled as he felt Trowa's hands slowly rub up and down his arms. To his horror, a small whimper escaped his lips, and he tried not to flinch at his partner's gentle touch. There was no pain, but the intensity of the _lack_ of pain was terrifying.

"N… no more... _please_. Touch... don't rub," he finally managed to say, struggling to make his abused voice work.

"I'm sorry, love," Trowa sighed dejectedly. "Some of the drugs they'd been giving you must still be in your system. I thought it'd be all right to touch you because you weren't screaming."

"Doesn't... hurt, _muhib_," Quatre's weakened voice answered haltingly, "just… too much... too _soon_."

"How's your vision, Quatre?" asked Sally from the driver's seat. He trembled more against Trowa and his hand spasmed.

"Cat, please talk to us," Trowa said when he didn't answer.

"Blurry... before. D… don't wanna open them again. 'm afraid… I'll be _blind_…"

"The drops they were using in them should be starting to wear off by now, so I need to know if your vision's clear yet," said Sally gently. "If it isn't clear yet, it soon _will_ be."

Trowa shifted his lover so he could see his face. "Come on, love, let me see those pretty blue peepers of yours," he coaxed softly.

Quatre struggled, trapped between the terror he still felt and what he knew _had_ to happen, so he cracked his eyes open. They were still bloodshot and felt hot, dry and gritty, but the burning was nearly gone and Trowa's face was _a lot_ clearer.

"Still blurry, but better."

"Gorgeous," Trowa proclaimed with a slight smile, holding up a bottle of water with a straw in it. "Now, let's see if we can get some fluids into you. We would have gone with an IV, but it's not an option till we're holed up somewhere safe. If you can't keep it down, then we'll have to take the risk."

Quatre took a small sip; the cool water was soothing to his raw, pained throat. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he turned his focus back to Trowa. "Iria…?"

"She's safe, and so is Cathy," Trowa replied seriously. "_They_ weren't the targets, Cat; _we_ were."

"They kept asking me where we'd go to hide," Quatre whispered, then took another sip of water as his husband's lips brushed his forehead. "I didn't _tell_ them..."

"I know."

"Okay, guys, make some room," Sally warned the other two. "First rendezvous, 02."

"Ah, shite," Trowa sighed tiredly. "I was hoping either Hiiro or Wu Fei would be first."

"Don't underestimate Duo," Sally replied, pushing the door open. She then shouted to Duo "_**HEY, 02! GET YOUR SKINNY ASS OVER HERE, ON THE DOUBLE!**_"

"I'm _not_ underestimating him, Sally, but for crissakes, he packs _six_ bags for a two-day mission, and _four_ of them are usually crammed full of explosives!"

"I _heard_ that!" Duo exclaimed, pushing the aforementioned six bags into the back of the van before hopping in.

"Which part? The blasphemy, or my assessment of your packing skills?" Trowa asked dryly.

"Both," the Deathscythe Beast pilot replied. Duo dropped into the seat behind the pair and ran a tired hand through his chestnut bangs, then took one look at his best friend and gave him a broad, encouraging smile. Quatre blinked a couple of times, and found he was better able to focus on his best friend's face. Duo looked haggard; he had faint gray circles under his eyes, his mid-back length braid was mussed and his clothes were more rumpled than usual.

"Allah, you look like _shit_, Duo," Quatre croaked, wincing at how rough his voice still sounded. "What's your status?"

Duo's bark of laughter startled the Sandrock Thunder pilot. "You don't look much better yourself, buddy. I'm tired, is all. Just like during the war, only without the restful periods. We're movin' in and outta safe houses faster than ever, but the bastards just keep finding us." Duo turned his gaze to Sally. "Hiiro's call came about two minutes before our perimeter was breached, so I sent Hilde on ahead to HQ. Where's Rashid? I thought _he'd_ be here, too."

"He and the Maguanac Corps took over ESUN's security before I left to retrieve Cat. Une asked me to call them in because we can _trust_ them. Speaking of Anne, how's she handling the leak?" asked Trowa.

"Ya mean other than having a litter of kittens over it?" Duo replied. "She's been calling in everyone she knows she can trust and they're going over all of the personnel files with a fine-toothed comb, starting with the people closest to her and expanding outward from there. In her own words, this whole situation is one _gigantic_ clusterfuck."

Quatre tried to follow the conversation, truly he did, but his attention kept wavering. Waves of exhaustion were pulling him under, and as hard as he tried to fight it, to stay awake, he couldn't any longer. Listening to the familiar, comforting voices of his partner and two of his best friends, he closed his eyes again and let his head droop to Trowa's shoulder. A few moments later, his breathing slowed down and evened out, indicating that he was sleeping.

"Is he finally asleep?" asked Sally, glancing in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah," Trowa answered. "I'm amazed he managed to stay _awake_ this long."

"Tro, what'd those bastards_ do_ to him?" Duo asked . "He feels… _different_."

"He's still trying to purge the rest of the drug cocktail they'd been feeding him from his system. The kidnapper was one of H's people, I'd bet a tenner on it. Duo, they _know_ about our nanites and how to use them _against_ us."

"Damn! We need to find out what Cat knows from his time there," Duo exclaimed, his mind reeling.

"I wish we could _ask_ him," Trowa said as he pulled Quatre closer and tried to force his hands to be still. "He wasn't exactly _lucid_ when I finally found him. They had him locked up like veal in a tiny cell that smelled of piss with recordings of multiple voices and images and flashing lights playing constantly. He can still barely lift his arms, and just barely brushing my fingers on his bare skin made him scream in pain."

"Give him a couple days, Tro, an' he'll be as back to normal, or at least as normal as _any_ of us are," reminded Duo.

"Not bloody likely!" the Chinese American doctor exclaimed. "He's looking at _months_ of recovery time, and then maybe even physical and speech therapy!"

"It took Hiiro three months to completely recover after self-detonating in Wing. Cat's nanites should be fully up and running by now."

"I guess I still don't know enough about them," admitted Sally.

"You should probably check out the files Hiiro and Quatre have. Outside of the Mads, the two of them are the experts," Trowa said, shifting in his seat.

"Geez, I never really _thought_ about _warning_ 'em!" Duo said with wide eyes. "Fei an' Hii-kun probably didn't even _realize_ it! I mean, I told Hilde and _she_ was cool with it, but…!"

"Spit it out, Maxwell," growled Sally. "What did they _not_ realize?"

"That our nanites can be spread to others through bodily fluids," he replied sheepishly, blushing furiously. "Not through blood, sweat, tears or saliva, mind, but through... um... _other_ stuff."

Sally paled. "How long did it take before you noticed the effects, and what are they?"

"It was little stuff for me," answered Duo. "Basically, they reversed all the damages _years_ of malnutrition had done to my body. Height-wise, I gained a good _three inches_ in a matter of weeks; my speed and reflexes were always _good_, but they got _better_. I'd never tested myself to see if I ever got as strong as Hiiro is, but they definitely made _him_ stronger."

"With me, it started with the injuries I'd sustained just before I was injected with them healing rapidly. Later, I noticed I'd gotten taller, too, and that my balance and equilibrium had improved to the point that I don't need a pole to walk a tightrope. With Quatre, they corrected a bad case of night blindness and enhanced his strength, stamina and endurance. They also corrected a slight limp he'd had from a broken foot. As for Wu Fei, you've seen him wearing a pair of prescription reading glasses at times, right?"

"Yeah."

"Imagine the lenses being three times thicker than they are now, and him having to wear them almost all the time. He was _extremely_ far-sighted."

Sally _did_ imagine it, and couldn't help the chuckle of mirth at the mental image of her husband talking about honor and integrity as a nerd. He was still cute, though.

"In other words, they correct all your flaws an' enhance your positives," Duo added. "Getting back to your question, it takes about a month for the little suckers to fully integrate with all your body's systems."

"Why so quickly?" she questioned softly.

"They have to multiply quickly in order to prevent any damage to the host's body," replied Duo, pulling one of the bags onto his lap. "I'll pull up G's files on 'em and send 'em to your tablet. I'm a hacker and mechanic, not a doctor, so you'll probably understand 'em a lot better than _I_ do. While I'm at it, I'll e-mail a copy of 'em to Tro's office computer at Preventer, just in case."

"Thanks, Duo. I'm good to drive for a couple more hours, so why don't you guys get some sleep? We'll switch off at the next rendezvous."

**- - - = = 0000 = = - - -**

That voice... he _knew_ that voice. It was the same oily, venomous sound that tormented him through some of his oldest nightmares. He tried to struggle, to fight back as they stripped him of his clothes and possessions, but his body refused to cooperate. His limbs seemed too heavy, despite his great stamina. The voice laughed at him, amused as he struggled to keep them from tearing his wedding band off his finger.

"_Do you remember me, little Shulmanu? You always were my favorite, a true god among mortals. Tell me how to find the others._"

Quatre struggled in Trowa's arms, startling his lover awake. The Heavyarms Bombardier pilot grabbed at the flailing arms and tried to hold on to the weaker man without hurting him.

"Quatre, wake up!" he cried. "It's all over! You're safe! Wake up, love!"

With a gasp, Quatre's eyes snapped open and he slumped, trembling and panting, in Trowa's arms. Despite his weakened state, he brought left hand up to his face. Tears threatened to fall as he turned to his husband and whispered "They _took_ it, Trowa... they took my wedding band."

Trowa hugged Quatre as tightly as he dared to, ever aware of his broken ribs, and felt the tow-headed man was close to hyperventilating from sheer terror. Though they were still closed off, the auburn-haired man attempted to project love and reassurance through the empathic and telepathic links they shared.

"It's all right, Cat," he whispered as he pulled the chain from inside his shirt. Trowa unclasped the necklace and slipped it around his husband's neck before gently wiping Quatre's tears away. "I found it at the site of the first raid. I've had it with me ever since."

"I _know_ him, Trowa," Quatre sobbed as Trowa kissed his forehead again. "I think we _all_ know him. Training… I still have _nightmares_ from his training. He… he had a _name_ for us…"

Duo's cobalt blue eyes widened in shock and horror as the color drained from his face. "Gods of War," he whispered.

"_**No!**_" Trowa protested, his own face turning ashen. "That's _not possible!_ The Mads had him _executed_! Even _they_ thought he was fecking crazy!"

"He escaped," Quatre corrected raspily, pushing his horror away. "He had friends on the inside, and H could never find him again."

"Who's driving next?" questioned Sally. "We're almost at the next pickup site."

"I will," Trowa replied. "I got some sleep with Cat."

"Okay," Sally glanced at the tow-headed man in the mirror. "Quatre, now that the drugs are nearly all out of your system, I'm going to check you over again, okay?"

Quatre nodded, not wanting to talk.

Sally frowned. "Does your throat hurt?"

Quatre nodded again and snuggled into Trowa's warmth. Exhaustion was tugging at his consciousness again. Just as he was starting to drift off, Trowa slipped out from behind him while Sally was saying something from the front. To his surprise, the van squealed to a halt and the Heavyarms Bombardier pilot jumped out the side door. The sounds of a fire fight rang out for several moments before Trowa bellowed "_**ZERO ONE! THIS WAY!**_".

Moments later, more bags were tossed into the back of the van and Hiiro collapsed into the seat behind him. Sally slid into the seat beside the half Japanese pilot as Trowa took her place behind the wheel.

"Status, 01?" snapped Sally, turning in her seat.

"Dislocated shoulder and a couple bruises," Hiiro answered with a feral grin. "I lit a pack of matches, stuffed them into the spout of a _very_ full bottle of vodka and tossed it into the sewer. Got caught in the shockwave."

Sally moved into the back seat, giving Hiiro an apologetic smile. "This is probably going to hurt."

Hiiro shrugged with his good shoulder. "No more than doing it myself would."

"Yeah, I can verify _that_," Duo chimed in with a wince. There was no need for the Deathscythe Beast pilot to elaborate further. They all knew the story of how Hiiro had set and splinted his own broken leg after making a leap out of a window on the fiftieth floor of a hospital just to escape the Alliance. Duo just happened to be there when he reset it.

"Hey, Duo," called Trowa from the front seat, "go through yours and Hiiro's bags and make sure the bad guys didn't slip us any presents. Hiiro, no time for modesty; there are bags of clothes behind your seat, so let's ditch the ones you have on. Duo, you probably should change clothes, too, and pray we don't get pulled over by the local LEOs for littering... or _worse_."

Sally returned to the seat with Quatre and pulled a bag from between the front seats. She brought out a pen light and turned to her tow-headed patient. "How's your vision, sweetie?"

"Clear," Quatre replied, his voice still raspy. "Throat hurts, though, and I'm starting to feel hungry."

"Your eyes look good, but I don't want you talking for a while. All that screaming did a lot of damage to your throat and vocal chords, so unless you absolutely have to, no more talking until they've had a chance to heal properly. How does your chest feel?"

Quatre lifted his eyebrow at her but answered anyways. "Sore."

"That's because you have at least two broken ribs and several bruised ones. You've lost a lot of weight, too, so you're going to feel weak for a while. I can't really give you a good estimate on your recovery until I understand the nanites better. We need to find a way to check them and make sure they weren't damaged or tampered with in any way," Sally explained.

"What _about_ our nanites?" Hiiro questioned defensively, concern etching itself on his handsome face.

Duo jumped in to explain. "The man trying to nab us knows about 'em, and he knows how to use 'em _against_ us. He called us his Gods of War and was particularly good at causing pain."

"He called himself Kronus. I'd had the _least_ exposure to him because I took Trowa Barton's place just before the man left," replied Trowa. "He was a sadistic monster; even the mechanics knew to keep away from him. Until today, I thought the Mads had carried out his execution."

"Yeah, the old farts were _about_ to, but J told me he had friends on the inside who helped him escape," Hiiro sighed. "To answer your question, Sally, we'd _know_ if our nanites had been tampered with. The pain was most likely caused by something interrupting them, like an electromagnetic pulse. I can tell you from _experience_ that it hurts like Hell."

Sally pulled a bottle of strawberry smoothie out of the cooler, opened and stuck a straw in it, then handed it to Quatre. "If you start feeling sick, honey, stop. If your stomach can handle it, we'll try some soup or something more solid later on. Hiiro, let me have everything you've got on the nanites."

"Sure thing."

"Get some rest back there, guys," Trowa chimed in. "We'll meet up with Wu Fei in about three hours, and then it's off to the safe house. We need to contact Lady Une and let her know as much about this guy as we can remember."

"We'll take care of _that_ once we've had the chance to talk to Fei," said Duo. "He might remember more about Kronus, and hopefully he'll remember what that whacko's _real_ name is."

_**To be continued...**_

**- - = = 000 = = - -**

**Author's Notes:** No A/N for this chapter.

**Annotations:** No annotations this chapter. Sorry.

**Next Chapter:** On their journey to meet up with Wu Fei, Trowa and the others desperately try to remember more about Kronus, the madman pursuing them. Quatre reveals some of what he remembers of his captivity, and finds out what weapon was used during his torture.

**Next, on **_**Gundam Wing: Let Slip the Gods of War - Dawn**_**.**


	4. Day Dreams

**Disclaimers, Warnings, Ratings, Archive, Etc.:** See Chapter One.

**Part Four: Day Dreams**

Duo and Hiiro were sound asleep in the second seat of the van, Duo's head resting on his best friend's shoulder. The moving van was the first chance they'd had to really rest in several weeks. Sally sat in the first seat with Quatre. Her new tablet, courtesy of Hiiro, completely held her attention as she soaked up everything she could about the nanites that she and some of her friends were now infected with.

Quatre slept tucked against the side of the van, his bruises already beginning to fade from black and plum to green and yellow. He had been alternating between deep sleep and ravenous hunger. It was a good sign; it meant his nanites were hard at work repairing the damages Kronus and his men had done to his body. Given enough time, he would be back in fighting trim. They just had to survive until then.

"Hey guys, we've need to make a pit stop," Trowa announced from the driver's seat. "The car's fuel cells need to be recharged, and we need a stretch and bathroom break. I don't know about anyone else, but I've been sitting in cars, off and on, for nearly thirty hours now, I haven't seen the inside of a loo since before I left the bad guys' lair, and I really don't feel like peeing behind another bush unless it's absolutely necessary."

Hiiro stretched, nearly dislodging Duo. "We should get some food and supplies, too, while we're at it," he said with a yawn. "Katoru's gonna go through a ton and a half of protein over the next few days."

"He needs more fluids, too. I'm _sorely_ tempted to insert that IV," Sally sighed.

"Everybody armed?" Duo questioned. At the chorus of affirmatives, he smiled and laid out his plan.

**- - - = = 0000 = = - - -**

Trowa pulled up to the recharger unit closest to the front of the store and gingerly climbed out of the driver's seat, then stretched and helped Sally get Quatre out of van. They'd decided to use the lavatory in shifts; Trowa and Quatre first, then Sally, Duo, and finally Hiiro, and the latter two decided that they would pick up and pay for the food and fluids while Trowa took care of recharging their vehicle.

With all of the van's doors opened, Trowa could keep watch on Quatre and still keep an eye on Hiiro and Duo inside the store. Sally stayed with Quatre and Trowa to watch the taller man's back while his attention was on the van. Despite his weakened state, Quatre sat hidden in the shadows with a gun resting in his lap, his alert blue eyes never leaving Duo and Hiiro as they gathered everything they needed in the small store.

"How are they doing?" asked Trowa as Quatre's stomach growled loudly.

"They've cleared just about all the beef jerky from the shelves and they're moving to another isle. Duo's got a basket full of bottled water and yogurt drinks, too, and he's now at the microwave. They're about to leave my direct line of sight, but they're tall enough for me to see them over the aisles," said Sally.

"They'll watch each other's backs," murmured Trowa, closing the plug station and moving to climb back into the van.

Quatre tapped Sally's arm to gain her attention. Once he had it, he signed to her, "_Trowa's too tired to keep driving. He's worried; he's gonna wind up pushing himself too hard._"

Sally nodded in response before turning her attention back to the two men in the store. "They've hit the register."

Trowa started up the van and was surprised to find someone tugging on the tail of his shirt. He turned to find it grasped in Quatre's hand and turquoise eyes focused on him. Sally's watched as Duo and Hiiro finished checking out and made their way back to the van. Before Sally could say anything to Trowa, Duo did.

"Look out, clown boy, I'm driving. Get back there, cuddle with your hubby, get some rest, and for God's sake, _**EAT SOMETHING**_," Duo ordered as he handed Quatre a cup of hot tomato soup.

"_Oy, yebat'_... Duo," warned Trowa. [1]

"You're as predictable as Relena says I am, Trowa," Hiiro added as he climbed into the passenger's seat. "Our first reactions have always been to protect our loved ones no matter what, even when we've pushed ourselves past our limits. There are _five_ of us to carry the weight of this load, _jikei-san_, so let us help you out, okay?" [2]

Trowa gave in with little more than a token grumbled complaint, and then settled into the seat with Quatre tucked against him, accepting the packet of beef jerky pressed into his hand by Sally. Quatre was carefully sipping his soup to avoid causing his throat more pain and to allow his stomach to adjust to real food again.

"I think I understand your nanites a lot better now," said Sally, going over her notes again. "They were given to you to counter the adverse effects of all the g-forces you were pulling during mobile suit battles." [3]

"So _that's_ why we never lost consciousness or redded out," Trowa quipped. [4] At that moment, Quatre finished his soup and handed the container to his husband, who handed it to Hiiro, who stuffed it into an empty bag for later disposal.

"And why you boys are all still healthier than horses while many mobile suit pilots have cardiovascular problems," Sally replied. After a moment, she grimaced and added "I'm gonna stop beating around the bush. This guy _had_ to have some kind of inside knowledge on your nanites to be able to use them against you the way he was."

"Even without first-hand knowledge of them, he could've accidentally stumbled on how to use them to cause pain," said Hiiro from the passenger's seat. "I learned that the hard way; EM grenades are _not_ a lot of fun. Luckily, the nanites aren't damaged by them, just forced to shut down and reboot."

"I've always wondered why those disappeared from armory so quickly," Duo murmured.

"I thought it was for the best after _that_ mission," Hiiro replied. "It's a wonder I didn't get caught. Rendezvous point in three minutes."

Quatre tapped Trowa's arm to get his attention before signing, "_Ask Hiiro what it felt like. Did it burn like fire, or freeze like ice?_"

"Cat wants to know what it felt like, fire or ice," said Trowa, giving his husband a questioning look.

"Both," replied Hiiro, surprised. "It felt like fire when they went offline, then like ice when they finally rebooted. It didn't happen all at once, either. It was more of a cascading effect."

"_Then they used some sort of EMP weapon on me,_" signed Quatre tiredly.

"Those electrodes I took off of you at the rest stop…," Trowa said softly. "I wonder... were _they_ the source of the pulse, or did they just produce electricity?"

Quatre closed his eyes and leaned his head against Trowa's chest, letting his heartbeat calm him. "_Don't remember much,_" he signed with trembling hands. "_At first, he only tried questioning me, but soon he became more than a little eager to start on the pain. Once he started, it was all I knew._"

He twisted, hiding his face against Trowa, unwilling to let them know how much the man enjoyed torturing him, or how much it was still affecting him. Trowa could feel Quatre's whole body tremble against him, and started to rub his hand up and down his husband's back. The Heavyarms Bombardier pilot wrapped his arms around Quatre and snuggled in as best as he could in the seat. He placed a gentle kiss against the ridge of Quatre's ear, and was surprised when he jumped away, terrified. Blue eyes opened wide and his body trembling uncontrollably, Quatre fought against the fear that washed through him.

Trowa met those wide, frightened turquoise eyes with his steady emerald ones. Gently, as he would have with a child on the street, he pulled Quatre back to his chest. "It's okay, love. You can tell me what happened."

Quatre fought with his panic, and let his hand close around Trowa's. His body continued to tremble, his mouth working though no sound escaped. Finally, he buried his face in Trowa's neck and the words slowly tumbled out. "He-he'd put his lips right by my ear and whisper. I - I could feel his l-lips _on_ my ear. H-he'd keep them there while the p-pain burned and whisper."

Trowa's arms tightened around Quatre and the rage he felt shimmered in his deep green eyes. "We're gonna get this bastard, Cat. He's never going to hurt you again."

A few minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of a busy market. There were people milling about everywhere, giving them enough witnesses and cover to ease their fears of attack. Wu Fei stood with his back to a stone wall, his bags against one side. They pulled up right in front of him and Sally opened the side door.

"Oi, Fei! Get a move on!" Trowa exclaimed, his eyes still blazing though Quatre was drifting off again.

"You look like you're ready to kill someone," Wu Fei snarled as he climbed in the van, obviously in a foul mood of his own.

Once they were moving, Trowa took one look at the group and felt the fury drain from him. Quatre was drifting deeper into sleep against him; his gentle, rhythmic breathing reminding him of just how exhausted he really was. The adrenaline he'd been running on since Quatre's abduction suddenly seemed to abandon him all at once and he lifted a trembling hand to brush through his bangs.

Wu Fei was suddenly beside him, dark eyes locked on him. "Trowa, how _long_ has it been since you've gotten more than a few minutes of sleep?"

"I - I _couldn't_... not u-until...," Trowa stammered as he felt exhaustion overtake him.

"I know, brother," murmured Wu Fei. "You had to make sure we were all safe and keep the squad together. We're all here now, so you can get some rest and I'll take the watch."

Tears glimmered in Trowa's eyes though none fell. "They _hurt him_, Fei. They hurt him so _badly_."

"And we're gonna _catch_ them, but you _need_ to rest so you can _take care_ of him. Quatre _needs_ you," replied Wu Fei, keeping his voice low and even. He continued to murmur to his friend until emerald eyes drifted closed and sleep overtook him. Once he was positive Trowa was sound asleep, he turned to his friends and asked "What the Hell happened?"

"D'you remember during our training, that asshole who called himself Kronus?" Duo asked softly.

Wu Fei paled drastically and his hand strayed to his shoulder. "Yeah, he was a fucking monster," he hissed, drawing himself up. "Master O sent him away after he… after he tried to _break_ me. I still have the scars from it."

"Well, the _bad_ news is that the fucker's alive and he's figured out how to use our nanites _against_ us. Worst news is that it seems he's trying to _collect_ us, though we don't know why yet. D'you happen to remember what his _real_ name was?"

"No. The only thing _I'd_ ever heard him call himself was Kronus. I know he had a name for _us_, too, but I don't remember it."

"He called us his Gods of War," sighed Hiiro. "When we check in with Lady Une later, we'll pass on the information we have. Fei, there's a change of clothes in one of the bags behind the last seat. We've been changing and ditching everything as we go."

While Wu Fei changed, Sally looked over at Trowa and Quatre. "How much should I be _worrying_ about him?" she asked softly.

"What do you know about his past?" asked Duo.

"Just the basics. Born on Earth in July, After Colony 180, orphaned and separated from his sister at the age of two, escaped from an Alliance orphanage at four, ran with a merc crew until he was almost ten, emigrated to L3-8253 and went to work for Doktor S at eleven, then became Trowa Barton and Gundam Pilot 03 and returned to Earth at fourteen. He _told_ me something earlier... that he'd been raped by the _real_ Trowa Barton just before the start of Operation Meteor."

"That makes you the _fifth_ person he's ever revealed that to," Wu Fei replied gently. "We can't tell you the rest of the details, Sally; _he_ has to. What we _can_ tell you is that he was taught at an early age to protect his squadron, and he takes that _very_ seriously; so much so, he can sometimes forget that we can help protect _ourselves_."

"Like the day your stomach growled and he practically fed you his lunch?" said Sally thoughtfully.

"Yeah. If I hadn't ordered food and had it delivered to his office, he wouldn't have eaten until he returned home later that evening."

"The four of you always carry little bags of his favorite candy," Sally prompted, trying to understand completely.

"He won't buy stuff like M&Ms for himself," explained Duo, "but he'll buy 'em for everyone else. He's more likely to pick out a healthy snack for himself an' Cat; usually a piece of fruit or something."

"Three o'clock apples," Sally murmured. "Trowa shows up at my office every day at three and gives me an apple, though I'm not sure how he found out they're my favorite."

"He's good at ferreting out little details," Wu Fei replied. "He's truly a master spy, and he'll do anything for those he considers family. Somewhere along the way, he realized you get hungry around three in the afternoon. He doesn't tolerate the thought of one of us being hungry well."

"Given our pasts, Fei, z'at surprise you?" asked Duo. "That's the one thing he an' I really have in common. Starving to death was a distinct possibility for a lot of our early years."

**- - - = = 0000 = = - - -**

He was about eight years old, and had just stolen some apples for dinner when he spotted her. She couldn't have been more than five or six and tiny for her age. Her dark hair was filthy and matted and her big brown eyes were filled with fear. Bruises decorated her too-thin face and arms. He circled the block and made sure she knew he was coming towards her. He was almost there again when she darted into the alley, sobbing. He stopped at the outside edge of the opening, knowing there was no exit within the alley.

"Are ye hungry?" he called softly. His only response was a terrified whimper. "I won't hurt ya." He set the apple on the ground in front of him. "Ye can have it. I won't touch ya."

He watched as she silently slipped out of her hiding place to slowly move towards the food. Once she was within easy reach of the apple, her tiny hands snatched it and she started gobbling it up. Once the apple was gone, she looked up at him adoringly with her big brown eyes.

"Ye got a name?" asked Nanashi, handing her another apple. She shook her head and he tipped his head to the side thoughtfully, "How 'bout I call ye Mouse, then?"

She nodded and reached out to take his hand. As soon as her small fingers touched his, a blackness spread from where their skin met. He dropped her hand but it didn't stop the spread. He screamed as she was devoured by the blackness, tears streaming down his cheeks from wide, terrified green eyes.

Strong arms held him and rocked him while crooning softly. Those arms held his arms pinned to his sides and he was confused to still feel Quatre's weight across his lap. He slowly opened his eyes, confusion swirling in their emerald depths. Worried turquoise orbs met his as Quatre moved so they were almost nose to nose.

"Dreaming about Mouse again?" Quatre asked softly. Trowa nodded and was surprised when Quatre reached up and wiped away a few stray tears and kiss his husband's cheek. He gave Quatre a weak smile before looking over his shoulder to find Wu Fei behind him.

"Are you finished trying to jump out of the van?" asked Wu Fei calmly.

Trowa nodded again, still not trusting his voice. He didn't move to get out of Wu Fei's grasp but he pulled Quatre back against him and hid his face in his husband's dirty hair. Of all his nightmares, the ones he had about Mouse always shook him the worst.

"Trowa, tell us about it," Hiiro said from the passenger seat. He was pale and his eyes wide when he saw one of Quatre's hands stray towards his chest.

"When I ran with the mercs, we'd pick up any little ones we found and took them to safety. I was good at finding them, and they trusted me because I was a kid, too. One day, I think I was eight, I'd found this little girl and took her with me. The poor baby was covered in bruises and didn't have a name. She was maybe only five or six, and I called her Mouse because she was so tiny and so scared. I'd stolen a bag of apples from an abandoned shop that day, just a little while before I found her… but some OZ soldiers saw me take them and followed us. They _beat her to death_ to punish me, then started in on me." A sob tore from his throat. "She was just a _baby_... she _trusted_ me_!_"

Wu Fei held on tighter as Trowa tried to pull himself back together. The tears that had fallen freely in his sleep were bottled up tightly once more, denying him the release he needed and deserved. Giving an exasperated growl, Quatre pulled his hand away from his chest and grabbed Trowa by his chin.

"It _wasn't_ your fault," he ground out, his voice sounding much closer to normal. "You did what you _had_ to in order to survive. Those OZ soldiers were monsters."

_Isn't that what I keep trying to tell _you_ about ZERO, Cat? That it wasn't your fault?_ Trowa thought, looking into Quatre's face.

"Quatre's right, Trowa," said Sally from behind him. "It _wasn't_ your fault. You were just a baby yourself."

"Aw, _shit!_ Guys, we've got a problem!" said Duo, drawing their attention to the road ahead of them. Without giving them more than a second to look, he turned across traffic to avoid hitting the man standing in the road. A moment later, an explosion rocked the speeding van, nearly causing it to roll over.

"Was that a _grenade?_" Sally questioned, blinking.

"Yeah, it was," Hiiro answered, his voice starting to slip into his old wartime "mission mode" monotone.

"How the Hell did they manage to _find_ us?" demanded Wu Fei.

"I think it's _me_," said Quatre. He turned to Trowa. "_Muhib_, did you check _me_ for bugs?"

"I - I didn't have _time_ to. I stopped looking after I found the electrodes," Trowa stammered, wide-eyed. He scrambled for his duffel bag and pulled out the scanner. Starting at the top of Quatre's head, he scanned all the way to his feet. "Found it; socks off, Cat."

Quatre pulled off his socks, and on the top of his right foot was a small scar over a bulge. "Sub-dermal," he said to Sally.

"Hiiro, hand me my bag, quick!" ordered Sally slipping into the seat and pulling Quatre's foot into her lap. Pulling out a needle and a vial of lidocaine, she quickly numbed the area she was about to work on. "Take some of those gauze pads and use the alcohol to prep them. I'm gonna need them."

"Please, just hurry," Quatre growled. Sally sighed and opened a sealed package containing a clean scalpel while Hiiro prepared the gauze. With practiced ease, she swiped the top of Quarte's foot with the squares and sliced along the small scar. A moment later, she held up a small tracking device before handing it to Hiiro in exchange for more of the gauze. She cleaned and stitched up the incision before taping a dry piece of gauze in place.

"Hiiro, get rid of that damned thing," said Trowa softly as he leaned with his head against the window and closed his eyes. "Duo, _please_... just get us to the safe house as quickly as possible."

**- - - = = 0000 = = - - -**

**Author's Notes:** A reviewer posited to me this question: "[D]on't you think it's a little too much for all the pilots be Newtypes? Since you stated they all have nanites, therefore heal faster plus are pretty much as close to perfection as anyone can be, it feels a little over the top to make them Newtypes as well (except for Quatre since it's practically cannon by now)."

My answer was, quite simply, this: "Well, that all of the boys being Newtypes is right there in the series. We know that Quatre's an empath and a bit of a telepath, but Trowa shows both telepathy and empathy, too. Duo's was kept vague, Wu Fei's ability to sense evil was downplayed, and though there were hints, you don't find out what Hiiro's is until the very last episode."

Then again, many in the cast had Newtype abilities, including Relena (unspecified, though she had a connection with Hiiro), Zechs (unspecified), Treize (ditto), and Lady Une (projective empathy strong enough to make people do whatever she wanted). Hell, Victor Gaintz from Battlefield of Pacifists and Dekim Barton in the manga version of Endless Waltz were also depicted as being Newtypes who could control peoples' minds.

In fact, I think the **only** characters in the series who _weren't_ Newtypes were the Mads and Howard (though they could recognize them), the Dorlans, Cathy, Mr. Hawthorn (the ringmaster/owner of the Circus), Noin, Sally, Tsuberov, Dorothy, Dermail and most of the rest of Romefeller, Quinze and most of the rest of the White Fang, Nichol, Leia Barton, the real Trowa Barton, and Mariemaia. I'm not sure about Hilde.

In closing out the notes on this chapter, I hope I've provided a better explanation of what the nanites do and why the boys were given them in the first place.

**Annotations:**

[1] _Oy, yebat'_ is Romanized Russian for "Oh, fuck."

[2] _Jikei-san_ is Japanese for "revered older brother."

[3] More information of the effects of gravitational (g) forces can be found here: en. wikipedia wiki / G-force

[4] See [3].

**Next Chapter:** Exhausted, our stalwart heroes reach the safe house, but find no time to relax. Realizing that their chances of survival will be greater with help from their comrades, the Gundam pilots decide to continue on to Preventer HQ.

Next, on Gundam Wing - Let Slip the Gods of War: Noon


	5. Noon

**Disclaimers, Warnings, Ratings, Archive, Etc.:** See Chapter One.

**Part Five: Noon**

The group of six were exhausted by the time they reached the safe house, which was actually a fairly large log cabin located in a heavily wooded area outside of Manassas. Hiiro and Duo spent the remainder of the trip alternating between passenger and driver. Trowa had been oddly quiet since the discovery of the tracking device, all of his energy focused on Quatre. Wu Fei moved into the back seat with his wife, the revelation that she was infected with the nanites weighing heavily on his mind.

Wu Fei and Sally left the van to check out the house. Guns drawn, they slowly made their way through the single story home. When they finished a visual check from front to back, they took out Hiiro and Duo's hand held scanners and swept for bugs. Once it was deemed safe, they returned to the van to help bring in their supplies while Trowa carried Quatre inside.

"God, I could sleep for a week," Duo murmured as he turned off the engine.

"Sally and I will take first watch," said Wu Fei, taking a look at the motley group he called family before him. "Duo, Hiiro, you guys wanna help me with setting up the perimeter?"

The cobalt-eyed man nodded while taking in the serious look between 05 and his wife. The glance conveyed the true depth of his concern while being stripped of their usual snark and sarcasm. It was a full twenty minute conversation wrapped into one three second glance.

"Trowa," said Sally, "why don't you make some dinner while I check on Quatre again. Once the two of you finish eating, you're both going to get some sleep."

"Okay," the dejected Trowa replied softly, moving towards the door with Quatre in his arms.

"Just giving you fair warning," replied Sally seriously as they made their way into the house.

As soon as they got Quatre settled on the couch, Trowa headed for the kitchen. Two pairs of blue eyes watched in concern over his silence. Once the Heavyarms Bombardier pilot was quietly working away at the stove, Sally turned her attention back to Quatre and, to her relief, the Sandrock Thunder pilot was looking better than he had a while ago. With the help of the nanites, his bruises were fading and his stamina was rapidly returning to that of a normal man his age. It wasn't up to his usual standards, but it was far better than she'd expected.

"Don't be too hard on him, Sally," Quatre implored softly as she examined his eyes with a pen light. "He's being hard enough on _himself_ for missing that damned tracker."

"I know, and he shouldn't be, because I missed it, too," she sighed. "He's been more subdued than usual since we found it... I'm worried about him, Quatre. He's put himself under so much stress since they took you. I'm almost positive he hasn't been sleeping well."

"He'll endure," answered Quatre with a conviction that surprised her. "Trowa's _always_ been able to endure. It doesn't surprise me that he hasn't been sleeping. We've been chasing away each other's nightmares since the first war. Don't underestimate him, Sally."

"Okay, you're cleared to move around the house, and I want you to continue taking in as much protein as your body demands. Nothing too strenuous for now, give yourself enough time to heal. Because of the situation, I'm clearing you for a weapon," Sally sighed. Loud enough to carry into the kitchen, she called, "Trowa, I'll finish dinner. You go help your husband get cleaned up. Six weeks without a shower is _too_ long."

"I wasn't going to say anything, but a bath _will_ make sleeping with him a little more pleasant," Trowa joked, walking in with a towel in his hands. "I've started a big pot of lamb stew; just tell Fei to add some salt to taste and stir it well. Oh, and I've only got cheap pots and pans here, so don't let it stick to the bottom. There are some frozen rolls in the freezer. Give us about half an hour before you put them in the oven, which I thoughtfully set to preheat for you."

"I guess Wu Fei's told you of my infamous lack of cooking skills," Sally said with a laugh. A moment later, Quatre tugged on Trowa's shirt to get his attention.

"You ready, Cat?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I've _been_ ready since the moment you found me," came the tow-headed man's reply.

**- - = = 000 = = - -**

"So these are the latest design, huh? Nice," Wu Fei quipped admiringly as he double checked and activated the pre-installed system.

"Yeah," replied Hiiro from his position, using his tablet to sync the devices. "I'm pretty sure this is Trowa's his regular escape. I got worried once and tracked him down electronically. The deed to this house is in the names of Nathan and Margaritka Bloom, and has been since before we were born. I hate to admit it, but I've underestimated him several times during the war. His network of contacts and safe houses is almost as extensive as my own."

"I think he prefers _not_ to use his contacts unless he absolutely _has_ to, though he keeps in touch with them," Wu Fei added as he turned on the last sensor before climbing down and rejoining the other two. "He's always been true to his motto."

"I still think, after all these years, it's amazing how close the two of you have become," Hiiro said softly.

"For one thing, Trowa looks for people he can call family," explained Duo. "His need for people he can protect led 'im to Cathy, Cat, you and Fei, though I don't think he realized it, or that he and Cathy have that in common. The two of you are the most obviously protective of the ones closest to you. I doubt he'll ever admit it, but I think Tro wanted to protect Cat from the first moment they met, even though Cat can take care of himself."

"What about you?" Wu Fei asked his best friend.

Duo smirked, his cobalt blue eyes twinkling. "He told me once, just after the war, that he didn't know what to make outta me. You and Hiiro could be studied and your reactions predicted. Cat, though he's deceptively innocent in appearance, can be predicted just as easily. He couldn't find any way to piss me off so he could learn my reactions. The fact that Hii-kun here can read me better than _he_ could unnerved Tro, but in the end, it was Cat's faith in me and love for him that let him accept me."

They were all left to think about Duo's words as Hiiro rummaged through the bag for the first wristwatch. He pointed it at the sensors to create an uplink and set it to the system before tossing it to Wu Fei. Once all six were set, they returned to the house where they were greeted by the savory scent of cooking food.

"Sally, babe, _please_ tell me you haven't been trying to cook again," Wu Fei quipped in mock dismay as he stepped into the kitchen. Sally grinned before responding to her dark eyed man.

"Nope, Trowa put it together while I checked Quatre. He's got a lot of pre-made and frozen foods in the freezer. He must've spent _days_ here, just cooking."

Hiiro handed Sally her wristwatch. "You're right. He _has_ spent a lot of time up here. Where'd they go?"

"Quatre needed a bath, so Trowa's helping him with that," Sally answered while she examined the watch. "Are these connected to the perimeter alarms?"

"Yeah, Wu Fei can show you how they work," Hiiro replied, turning towards the interior of the house. "I'm gonna leave these for them and then check out the sleeping arrangements."

As Hiiro left, Sally tried her best to suppress a yawn and failed. Taking the big spoon from her hand, Wu Fei kissed his wife on the cheek and said "Sal, why don't you go in the other room, lay down and take a nap for a while. I'll finish fixing the food."

Trudging her weary way into the living room, Sally made a beeline for the sofa recently vacated by Quatre and sat down. It was every bit as soft and comfortable as it looked. To Wu Fei's amusement, she bounced on the seat to settle herself in, stretched out fully and fell asleep as soon as her head hit a pile of well-stuffed throw pillows.

**- - = = 000 = = - -**

Cool tile lined the bathroom in a gentle blue, the accents all the warm, golden hue of polished brass. The tub was a large, sunken pool the likes of which Quatre had seen only in his father's mansions in the L4 cluster. On a nearby shelf, large, fluffy blue towels and bath sheets waited for their use. Quatre sat on the closed lid of the toilet while Trowa filled the tub with warm water and something faintly sweet smelling. Quatre looked at the bottle being set down and chuckled; the scent was Mr. Bubble.

"How are you feeling?" Trowa asked softly, still much more subdued than usual.

"Human again," replied Quatre, just as softly. While they waited for the tub to fill, he snagged one of Trowa's belt loops and tugged the verdant-eyed man towards him. "Trowa…"

Deep green eyes stayed trained stubbornly on the floor. "I _screwed up_, Cat. I should have done a more _thorough_ scan at that rest stop. I'm sorry..."

Quatre sighed and tilted Trowa's chin down until their eyes met. "A couple of years ago, it _might_ have been an issue. We haven't really _needed_ our war skills in ages. It was a _mistake_, Trowa, and one I _know_ you won't make again. We're all _struggling_ to remember our old skills. Besides, this is part of "03's oh, shit plan," right?" Quatre said, giving him a quirky smirk. "Where would we be _without_ it?"

"Probably stuck in the stupid van till who knows when, listening to Duo's bad jokes and singing "One Hundred Bottles of Beer On the Wall" 'til our heads exploded," answered Trowa, giving him a small smile in return.

"You joining me?" asked Quatre, tugging on Trowa's hand.

"If you want me to," replied Trowa, almost shyly.

_Oh, that's _not_ good,_ Quatre thought, his brow furrowed in concern at Trowa's behavior before a knock at the door disturbed them. Trowa turned the knob and opened the door, giving him a view of Hiiro.

"I just wanted to give you your alarms," Hiiro gave Trowa a smile. "Thanks for sharing your sanctuary, Trowa."

"Thanks, Hiiro," said Trowa, taking the wristwatches. "I would've shared this place, eventually."

"If it was ever needed, and we all understand that," responded Hiiro. "Go help Katoru."

"Thanks again, Hiiro," replied Trowa, giving the Wing Seraphim pilot a slight smile before closing the door. As soon as the latch caught, Trowa locked it, then slowly stripped out of his clothes, giving his husband and lover a brief show.

"I'll have to remember this is where you go when you take off on your own, just so I don't worry so much," Quatre sighed before spinning him around and wrapping his arms around him.

"God, _I've missed you_, Cat," Trowa groaned, letting his arms wrap around Quatre's waist.

"Me, too, love you," murmured Quatre against Trowa's shoulder. "Come on, before the water gets cold and we lose all the bubbles."

He couldn't help but oblige as he turned his attention to Quatre. Once they were comfortably seated in the tub, Trowa worked a soft face cloth over Quatre's skin. A soft murmur prompted the Sandrock Thunder pilot to duck his head before nimble fingers worked shampoo into the grease-matted pale blond fuzz that was now his hair.

"It's gonna take two washings to get your scalp completely clean," said Trowa practically. "It'll grow back, love; you know that."

Quatre nodded and moaned as Trowa gently scrubbed his scalp. Ducking again to rinse, they quickly repeated the process before working in a little conditioner. At Trowa's order, Quatre left the conditioner to soak in while the taller man washed his own hair, and when he heard it was time to rinse, he was feeling sleepy again.

"Hey, stay awake long enough to _eat_," Trowa ordered as he got them out of the tub, dried off and in clean t-shirts and sweat pants. He'd also found two pairs of oversized flip-flops for their feet.

"Mmmph," Quatre replied softly, and heard his husband chuckle in response.

"You're only getting away with _that_ answer because you're so tired."

"Want me to help comb the knots out your hair now?" questioned Quatre sleepily. Even though Trowa had long ago lost the full frontal cowlick, as Catherine had called it, his hair still snarled up after washing.

"Nah, it should dry a little, first," replied Trowa softly. "Besides, it's just the guys and Sally."

Quatre gave him a small, encouraging smile as he slid a comb into Trowa's pocket. "Let's go get something to eat before I doze off again."

Trowa led the way from the bathroom, his calloused hand clasped around the comb as he tried to get the tangles out of his wet hair. He took them through the living room and into the dining room where they found Hiiro and Duo setting the table. The smells of stew and warm bread filled the air, causing several stomachs to growl loudly and Sally to wake up. When the pair entered the dining room, they noticed that Duo had his hair unbraided.

"I can't remember the last time I've seen you with your hair down," Quatre exclaimed as the Deathscythe Hell pilot entered with the bread in a tea towel-lined basket.

"Only a small handful of people have seen it down since Sister Helen started braiding it for me," Duo replied with a shrug.

"What he's _not_ saying," Hiiro supplied, "is that, with Sally here, the number's just risen to nine."

"Sit down, everyone," Wu Fei ordered as he brought in the stew. His eyes widened at the sight of Duo. "Duo?"

"It's nothing, Fei; it just needs combed out. I'll rebraid it later," sighed Duo, taking a seat next to Hiiro. "I know this is usually _Cat's_ line, but I think we need a plan."

"I've been thinking about that, too," Quatre admitted, taking the seat Trowa pulled out for him. "We're _very vulnerable_ against someone who knows our collective weakness, and hiding from him _isn't_ going to solve anything. I think it's time we call in the people _we trust_ and make a stand."

"Zechs, Noin and Nichol are gathered with Lady Une as we speak," Hiiro said. "Relena and Hilde are there, too, so that makes six more."

"Quatre and Hiiro are right," Trowa conceded, accepting a bowl of stew from Hiiro with a nod of thanks. "We need people who _aren't_ going to be susceptible to an EM pulse, and Zechs, Noin and Nichol are _good_, good enough to help us. The next question is: do we stay _here_ tonight and try to get some rest, or do we leave right after dinner and show up at headquarters later tonight?"

"How far _are_ we from headquarters?" Sally asked, accepting a bowl of stew from her husband with a murmur of thanks. "You managed to lose me while I was sleeping."

"About an hour and a half away," Trowa replied. "If we're going, it'll have to be _right after_ we finish eating. I recommend giving Lady Une a call when we're less than a mile away from headquarters."

"That's a good idea," Wu Fei quipped as he dunked some of his bread in the stew's thick gravy. "We've been running for six weeks without end, so it'll also give us a chance to rest. Even during the war, we had _plenty_ of time to do _that_."

"If you count all the times we slept in our Gundams," Duo grumbled playfully around a mouthful of food.

"At least we _had_ time to sleep, back then," Wu Fei chuckled.

Hiiro ran a tired hand through his hair and sighed, "Katoru, what'll our chances for survival be _without_ any help?"

"Truth?" Quatre replied, anger creeping into the blond-haired man's voice. "About a hundred times _worse_ than we had during the war. Just having Zechs _or_ Miss Noin there to back us up will more than _double_ our chances of survival. We _can't_ do this alone, simply because Kronus knows about the nanites. I say we go tonight."

"Sounds like we're all agreed, then," said Sally. "We're going to headquarters once we've finished eating."

**Author's Notes:** And so, another chapter is done. It's not as long as some of the others, but Sally and the boys needed a breather from the action.

Progress on my other stories: I'm a bit blocked on Chapter Six of _Finding Triton_, but Chapters Two of _Guardian_ and Three of _Boy_ are coming along and should be posted within the next week to ten days. The first two chapters of my GW rewrite are almost done enough to be posted, and everything else is pending until I can get a few of these others done.

**Next Chapter:** At Preventer HQ, Lady Une, Nichol, Zechs and Noin are still busy looking for the leak when Sally calls. When she and the Gundam pilots arrive at headquarters, some of Kronus' men attack, knocking them unconscious even as the men are arrested. While they recuperate in a conference room, Quatre and the others share what they know.

**Next, on **_**Gundam Wing: Let Slip the Gods of War - Day Terrors**_**.**


	6. Day Terrors

**Disclaimers, Ratings, Warnings, etc.:** See Episode One.

**Gundam Wing © Sunrise/Sotsu. Used without permission and not for profit.**

**- - = = 000 = = - -**

**Part Six: Day Terrors**

In the time since Wu Fei's call informing her that there was a potential leak in her organization, Commander Une had been busy. She called the three agents she trusted most, Zechs, Noin and Nichol, into her office and asked them to bring their tablets. [1] The search wasn't going well. In the hours since, they'd found several agents and members of the office staff and cleaning crew whose true loyalties were questionable at best and treasonous at worst.

"_God damn it!_" she exclaimed, slamming her fists down in frustration on the desk in front of her. "I've got _another one_ we need to delve deeper into! How many is _that_ so far?"

"Fifteen out of the first one hundred fifty agents we've looked at, and we've been at it for only eight hours now," an exasperated Nichol replied tiredly, looking up from his own tablet. "Only another thousand files to go."

"I'm going to order some Chinese. Anyone else want some?" Zechs said with an exhausted sigh as he stood up. A moment later, he jumped, startled, when Noin's desk phone started ringing. Seeing who it was on the caller ID, she picked up the receiver and put the call on the speaker.

"Fire here," she said.

"_Water here,_" Sally's terse voice said on the other end. "_We're about a minute away. We need at least two escorts, preferably all four of you, or more if you can find anyone else you can trust. We have a tail and a_ serious_ vulnerability the enemy knows about._"

At the sound of her best friend's voice, Noin breathed a silent sigh of relief. She and Sally had been friends since the Earth-Space War, and she'd been worried since the Chinese-American doctor dropped out of sight six weeks earlier.

"Roger that, Water. Hang in there, all of you, we're on our way out now," she replied decisively. "They're almost here. They've got a tail and a _serious_ vulnerability the enemy knows about."

"Then let's go," Une said, checking her clip. The click of it slamming back home had the whole group on their feet and moving as a unit for the elevator, checking their own weapons and donning bulletproof vests as they went.

By the time they reached the ground floor, they were as ready as they were ever going to be. As they moved towards the mirrored glass doors, they fell into formation without saying a word. To their surprise, and to Zechs and Noin's relief, Hilde and Relena were standing at the welcome desk, talking to the receptionist.

"Relena, Hilde, are you girls on the clock?" Lady Une asked.

"Yes, ma'am," replied the dark-haired girl. She took in their stances with a well-trained eye. "We're here on a case."

"Are you both wearing vests?"

"Of course," Relena answered, pulling her weapon, a Walther P22-5120300, from its shoulder holster with a look of concern on her face while Hilde flashed her PPK. [2] "Our paranoid, overly-protective husbands would never let us hear the end of it if we weren't. Why? What's going on?"

Unbeknownst to the others, Hilde and Relena were there on orders; Duo and Hiiro's orders, to be precise. After six weeks on the run together, the two pairs had split up that morning after Trowa's call letting them know he'd retrieved Quatre. And knowing the girls wouldn't be happy sitting around and twiddling their thumbs, the two Gundams sent them ahead for their protection.

"Good," the Commander ordered, glancing out the window, "As of this moment, you're officially being borrowed by my office. We have some friends coming in, and they need to reach my office safely. Right now, the six of us are the only ones we can trust."

"They're here," Noin said from her place by the door.

Relena and Hilde took their places, and as the van skidded to a stop, they were surprised to see an SUV pull up behind them. Three men in black suits jumped out of the vehicle and started closing in on the van. With the slightest sign from Une, they moved.

"_**FREEZE!**_" rang out around the vehicles as Une, Noin, Zechs, Relena, Hilde and Nichol moved to surround the group, but they couldn't get into place before an EM grenade made it into the van. Sally, Duo and Hiiro managed to tumble out of the vehicle before it detonated, but the others weren't as lucky.

"_**I SAID FREEZE!**_" Une snarled as she moved to disarm the nearest assailant, her Sig Sauer pressed against the base of his skull. Nichol and Noin disarmed the other two while Hilde, Zechs and Relena moved to check on the agents in the van. The three men struggled against their captors as they started moving them into a group and towards the building.

Une handed Nichol the man she cuffed and gave him a savage smile. In her best imitation of her old "Colonel Une" tone, she said "Agent Silver, you have my permission to shoot him as many times as you see fit if he even _thinks_ about trying to escape."

"Thank _you_, ma'am!" Nichol replied with his own savage look, and then shoved the two prisoners to get him moving. A moment later, he was joined by Noin, who was escorting the other thug.

"They're all unconscious," Relena said from inside the van. "_Hiiro!_"

Seeing her best agents lying on the ground, Lady Une jogged over to where the younger woman knelt. Hiiro moaned painfully as Relena's hand caressed his cheek, but as he opened his Prussian blue eyes, they fell on the woman he loved's worried Nile blue ones and gave her a faint smile.

"Great, they've knocked out the only doctor currently in the building," Une quipped as she helped Sally into a sitting position.

"Damn, I'd forgotten how much that fucking _hurts_," Hiiro grumbled, his hand gravitating to his head. "I'd hate to get _that_ full force again. You okay, Sally?"

"Yeah," Sally moaned, shaking her head to clear it. "It's certainly _not_ pleasant, whether you have them or not. The others are out cold."

"Good thing Cat and Tro dumped us out on the pavement when they did, or _we'd_ be helpless, too," replied Duo as he stood up, cradling his left hand. "Come on, Sal, you can lean on Hii-kun and I'll carry one of the others. Zechs, you can grab Trowa, he's all legs. I've got Fei, and Lena, can you handle Quatre?"

"Sure thing, Duo," Relena replied, putting one of Quatre's arms around her neck as she slid her other behind his back. As light as he was now, it wasn't difficult for the pretty blonde to carry her friend.

"Duo, what's wrong with your hand?" Hilde asked, seeing his hand spasm.

"Later, okay?" Hiiro interrupted gently. "Getting Katoru and Trowa under cover would be a good idea right about now."

Once they were inside the building, Lady Une left orders with the secretary to have the van towed to the garage and the SUV towed to the impound lot. Hiiro led the way to Lady Une's office, his eyes constantly scanning for danger. The commander brought up the rear, watching their backs. Once they were safely ensconced in the conference room, Lady Une turned to the conscious agents.

"What the Hell happened out there?" she asked, toning down her voice at the sight of her exhausted agents.

"They tried to gas us and used an EM grenade to make sure we couldn't fight back," Hiiro answered while glaring at a point behind her head. "Quatre and Trowa sensed them coming and dumped us out just as the grenade landed. Their leader's a man calling himself Kronus and he worked for the scientists who created the Gundams. They ordered his death when they found out he was a danger to us, but he had friends on the inside and escaped H. _We'd_ forgotten all about him; Quatre was the only one of us who remembered him and knew he escaped."

"How did they manage to incapacitate a van full of my best agents with nothing more than an electromagnetic pulse grenade?"

"Nanites," Quatre replied. "The scientists had been experimenting with them for decades as a way to protect pilots from the negative effects of fighting in mobile suits. The Alliance rejected the idea of using them because of costs. Months before the onset on Operation Meteor, the five of us were injected with them. It took most of the first month for them to fully integrate with our systems. Sally and Wu Fei are married, so her infection is directly connected, and unless Hiiro and Duo have been using condoms all this time, Relena and Hilde are probably infected with them, too."

The two young women looked at each other, then at their husbands. As a mobile suit pilot herself, Hilde understood the concerns the Mads might have had for their young recruits, and she'd accepted the fact that she, too, might be infected with nanites when Duo told her about them. Relena gave her husband a look that said "we'll talk about this later" more clearly than words would have.

"I have them, too," Zechs chimed in. When everyone looked at him, wondering how that could have happened, he simply added "Howard gave them to me. Noin doesn't know." [3]

"I call interrogation rights," Duo groaned as he slowly forced himself to sit up.

"Me, too," Hilde added, putting her husband's arm around her shoulders.

"Are we gonna be allowed to drop them into an active volcano first, then dip them into a vat of liquid nitrogen and hit them with twenty pound sledgehammers for good measure?" Wu Fei joked, though he made no move to sit up yet.

"I kinda doubt it, Fei."

"Damn."

"What do we know about Kronus?" Zechs asked.

"Other than he's a sadist?" Duo complained. "Not a Hell of a lot. The Mads thought he was insane enough to be a danger to us. G actually threatened to shove him out an airlock if he didn't leave immediately. He was supposed to go to J, but turned up with H a month later. The only one of us not as intimately familiar with his techniques is Trowa, though it doesn't explain why he tried to nab Trowa first."

"How is it that he doesn't know Trowa well?" wondered Une.

"Simple," admitted Trowa from his seat against the wall, "I'm not Trowa Barton, but a mechanic and back-up pilot who was in the wrong place at the right time. The _real_ Trowa Barton was determined to follow through with the original plans for Operation Meteor, which included dropping a colony and all her citizens onto the Earth and create an everlasting nuclear winter, but he was killed to prevent it from happening. I was working on Heavyarms at the time and witnessed it. Rather than kill me, too, they let me to take his name and pilot Heavyarms. As to why they tried to kidnap me first, that's anyone's guess."

Une looked surprised by the new information. "What was your name before?"

"You already know my birth name, Triton Bloom," Trowa replied with a shrug. "The Govs at the Alliance "orphanage" only referred to me as a number, and the captain of the mercenary corp who took me in called me Nanashi. Barton called me "No-name"."

"Wait a minute," Relena murmured. "The Mads are all former Alliance scientists, right? Who's to say they didn't take some of their more useful underlings with them? If we dig through their old files, there's a chance we can find out more about this guy. Maybe get his real name or some useful information on him."

The door opened to allow Nichol and Noin in, and the black-haired woman made a beeline to Quatre and Trowa and wrapped the tow-headed younger man in a warm hug. Like Lady Une, Noin tended to treat the boys like her younger brothers. But to say that Nichol Cage didn't much like the Gundam pilots was an understatement. Unlike Zechs, who respected the younger men not only as warriors and pilots, but as family, since Zero One was married to Zechs' younger sister.

Nichol could barely tolerate being in the same room with any of them, especially Trowa, whom he'd pegged as a Gundam pilot and spy during the war, even though seven years had passed. His disdain for the five wasn't to the point where he'd betray Lady Une or the Preventer Agency to the enemy, but he was never going to think of them as anything but terrorists.

"I see _Winner's_ finally been found," the curly-haired man practically snarled. "Care to share with the rest of the class now?"

"We're looking for a man calling himself Kronus. He has a connection to the scientists that created the Gundams. He's trying to collect the pilots but we don't know why," Zechs answered.

"The father of the Greek gods," Noin said incredulously. "That bastard must think _pretty highly_ of himself to call himself by _that_ name."

"He called _us_ his Gods of War," added Wu Fei, looking directly at Nichol, then turned his attention to the rest of the room. "Master O sent him away after he tried to break me. It was only a few weeks after Meilin's death."

Une watched as Sally took Wu Fei's hand to give it a discreet squeeze, and then asked "Meilin?"

"My first wife," answered Wu Fei. "She was my back-up pilot for the Shenlong, which I wasn't interested in piloting at the time. She died after a battle outside of L5-0206 nearly a year before Operation Meteor commenced."

"I was serving as the doctor of an Alliance garbage skow at the time," Sally added, remorse coloring her words, "and the late, unlamented General Septem ordered my commander to introduce a biological weapon into the colony's air supply. I argued with Septem, tried to get him to see reason and stop, but my commander went along with him."

Wu Fei had heard Sally's tale before, shortly after the Earth-Space War. He never blamed her for what happened; short of climbing into a Leo and fighting her commander and fellow officers, they were determined to carry out Septem's massacre and nothing was going to stop them. Nothing, that was, except for a pair of teenagers in a pair of advanced mobile suits.

"It wasn't your fault, _Xīn'__ài_. You _stood up_ to that bastard."

"Not enough."

Lady Une pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to fight the migraine all of this new information was giving her. "What about the rest of you? Are you the original pilots?"

"Sure am," Duo answered. "I broke out of an Alliance prison facility and stowed away on the Sweeper ship G was using. He was impressed that an untrained twelve-year-old brat could bypass his supposedly impenetrable security system and recruited me on the spot."

"Yeah," Quatre added. "I was recruited to the project when I was still twelve, _against_ my pacifist father's wishes. Oddly enough, the day I met H was the _same_ day that I met Rashid and the Maguanac Corps."

"Dr. J found me after Odin Lowe died during his last hit," Hiiro began. "Dekim Barton considered me a great find because, at eight years old, I already knew how to take apart and reassemble many weapons and could also fire a small rocket launcher, and was impressed by the fact that I finished Odin's job for him. Kronus was my first trainer after..."

Nichol looked impressed at Hiiro. "Odin Lowe... the _assassin?_"

"_And_ my biological father," said Hiiro softly. "He promised to protect me, and he _did_ for a while. He taught me everything he knew, from surviving in the wilderness to how to live a good life. Our last mission went badly; we were outnumbered fifty to one, and he'd been mortally wounded. He put a detonator he'd been carrying in my hand and then shoved me into an air conditioning vent with orders to get out, count to one hundred and push the button. J found me two days later." [4]

"You said that Kronus was your first trainer," questioned Zechs. "You also mentioned that Kronus was a sadist."

"Where do you think most of us learned to ignore pain?" Quatre asked, lifting an eyebrow at the other blond.

"J was just as opposed to Kronus' methods as the other Mads were, but he had added bonus of Barton breathing down his neck with his specifications for his perfect human weapon. Oddly enough, that was never _me_; our Trowa is closer to the "perfect soldier" Barton's ego craved."

"Bollocks," Trowa quipped. "There's no such thing as a perfect soldier, Hiiro. Even the Mads know that."

Une took a look around the room, taking in the body language of the group before she started issuing orders. "Okay, Zechs, order dinner. Relena, get yours and Hilde's boss on the line and let him know that I'm in need of your skills. Hilde, you and Nichol go down to the emergency supply closet and get some blankets and pillows. Noin, please get on the phone and let Doctor Winner and Mrs. Kurama know that their respective baby brother is safe and no, we can't tell them where they are until the threat's over."

"Quatre needs foods that are high in protein and calories, and we all need new computers," Sally said, rubbing her arms. "The tablets we had were all fried by that EM grenade."

"Nichol, grab them some new ones," Une ordered, and the curly-haired man nodded.

"We're going to need my laptop and the hand held locked in my desk drawer," Trowa said thoughtfully. "I think I've figured out how they've been tracking us. Hiiro, how up to hacking Quatre's nanites are you feeling?"

"Whoa, wait a minute!" Quatre yelped, his eyes widening. "You think they're using _my_ nanites to _track us?!_ That'd require them being within _ten feet_ of us!"

"Not _us_, love; just you. What if Sally's been right all this time and they'd altered one of your nanites to send out a tracking signal? To that _one nanite_, you're a walking, talking battery with enough juice to send out a signal without anyone ever noticing it."

"So, you need your desktop and the hand held," repeated Zechs. "I'll get them after I order food."

"Just take care of the computer and hand held, I'll order the food," Une sighed, then smiled softly. "I want the nine of you to settle into the conference room. There's a private bathroom with a shower connected to this office, so we should be okay here. There'll always be at least two of us on guard."

**- - = = 000 = = - -**

He woke disoriented, dreams of his life before H and Rashid mixed with dreams of his life before and after the war. He felt arms wrapped around his middle, giving him an anchor to this life. He pressed back against the warm body behind him and was relieved when the arms tightened protectively and a pair of warm, soft lips pressed against the nape of his neck.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Trowa whispered huskily. "Are you completely awake this time?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I was disoriented for a moment," he yawned hugely before turning around to lay his head on Trowa's chest.

"H, Rashid or your father?"

"My father, mostly," Quatre replied softly. "He tried to be good to me, but I was a mistake, and he never let me forget it. He had one rule: everything had to be his way, and there was no highway option. He never told me about my mother or that I was a natural-born, and tried to make Iria swear not to, either. We fought all the time as I grew up, but it escalated after I'd met H and Rashid, and usually ended with Father hitting me. Our battles lasted for nearly two years, until I cut myself off and came to Earth. Sometimes I wonder what Father would say to me now, if he'd be proud of who I've become and everything I've helped to accomplish."

"Sounds like your father wasn't the nicest guy in the Sphere," Duo sighed from across the room. "God, I hope there's some coffee in here. I'll even settle for some of Cat's sludge right now." [5]

"Hey!" Quatre yelped indignantly.

"Ignore him, love," Trowa said soothingly. "Duo wouldn't know good coffee if it bit him in his arse."

"Yes, there's coffee," Zechs quipped from the doorway, "_and_ breakfast. Anne's already searching the Alliance databases, and Nichol spotted three men watching the front of the building when he went for breakfast."

"What about the other exits?" Quatre asked, concerned.

"There are at least three men on each exit," Zechs answered. "We have local LEOs preparing to assist in taking down each group."

"That'll give us fifteen men to interrogate," Duo said with a grin. "Someone will give _something_ up."

"Correction; _fourteen_ men to interrogate. The ones we grabbed last night had a suicide plan. The first guy moved too quickly, though, tipping us off to the other two. We've seized the substance the other two had and know what to watch for later."

Quatre stood up and stretched. "When can we begin interrogating them?"

"Unfortunately, you two will have to be _excluded_ from this investigation, Quatre. You were the target, and Trowa's your husband. We're going to have to follow the rules _this_ time, boys," said Une from the doorway. "Zechs will be the lead on this one; everyone else will report to him. Any behind-the-scenes research can come from any computer in the building; the login will identify the researcher. Sally, Noin, and I are going to keep investigating our Preventers. I will _not_ tolerate leaks in my agency."

"Quatre and I will be working on his nanites," Trowa stated while he helped himself to some pancakes and golden syrup. "I want to find that tracker and check their programming. I'll eventually need to check everyone else out, and that includes you, too, Sally."

Hiiro set a plate in front of Relena before speaking. "Relena, Wu Fei and I will start searching for Kronus' records on the old Alliance database."

"I guess that leaves me and Hilde to interrogate the prisoners," Duo quipped, giving his elfin woman a glance.

"Twenty credits says they'll have them singing in a half hour," Zechs joked.

"I've got forty that says it'll be fifteen," Nichol replied.

"Deal."

"Zechs!" Noin exclaimed, admonishing her husband as he and Nichol shook hands. "I don't _believe_ you two!"

"Unless they're as well-trained as _we_ were, though I doubt he had enough time to do it," said Hiiro. "I'm going to check J's virtual database, plus some of the contacts that Odin left."

"All right, then let's get to it," ordered Une with a smile before turning to Hilde and Duo. "Duo, Hilde, don't make me regret letting the two of you work together on this."

Hilde gave her a wicked grin. "Why would we do that? I was hoping that this could lead to a transfer! You guys have all the fun!"

"Ha! "Fun," she calls it," Duo grumbled.

"We'll see how this goes, first. Then we'll talk about a transfer," said Une skeptically.

**- - = = 000 = = - -**

Duo sat calmly in the straight backed chair, his right ankle resting on his left knee. His face was the picture of innocence, his deep blue eyes downcast as though studying the delicate-looking cup balanced between his fine-boned hands. Behind him, Hilde paced like a caged tiger, her entire form crackling in agitation. Every move she made screamed predator and she knew it. As she paced, her voice reverberated off the walls of the small interrogation room.

"We're giving you a chance to avoid life in prison, here," Hilde said sweetly. "We just want some answers."

"Go fuck yourself, ya little bitch," the man snapped, his L2 accent apparent. The dark-haired woman slammed her hands on the table, causing the man to jump as Duo spoke up.

"Hilde, calm down," he said coolly.

"What the fuck _is_ this, good cop/bad cop?" the man sneered. "Lemme guess; Tinkerbell over here is supposed to scare me and you, little boy, are gonna to _protect_ me? That's a laugh!"

Letting those words sink in, Duo lifted cobalt blue eyes from his coffee and allowed the older man to finally see the cold-blooded God of Death, Shinigami, hiding behind his seemingly carefree mask. When the thug realized just _who_ this young man was, he shuddered in response; the temperature in the room seemed to drop a good twenty degrees just from the ice in Duo's stare.

"I don't think you understand, jerk-off," he replied, giving his victim a deadly grin, his voice dropping an octave. "That asshole you call your boss _hurt_ one of my little brothers and tried to capture another one, and if there's one thing I don't like, its people hurting _my family_. She's here to protect you from _me_."

**- - = = 000 = = - -**

**Author's Notes:** I apologize for taking so long with this chapter. I had this all ready to post weeks ago, but the file had somehow become corrupted and I had fallen back on a back-up copy. On an up note, I'll be receiving a brand new Toshiba Satellite between October 10th to the 13th. It's not my dream laptop (that would be a Qoosmio gaming laptop), but it's close.

Progress on my other stories: I'm a bit blocked on Chapter Six of _Finding Triton_, but Chapters Two of _Guardian_ and Three of _Boy_ are coming along and should be posted within the next two weeks. The second chapter of my GW rewrite is almost done enough to be posted, but the file for Chapter One wound up getting corrupted, too, so I'm rewriting it. It's a total pain in the ass, I swear.

Everything else is on hold until I can get a few of these others done and out of the way.

**Annotations:**

[1] One trope in post-Endless Waltz fan fiction is that everyone still uses reams of paper for files, reports, etc., even when there's almost no evidence of it in the anime and only in the WinnerCorp scene in Episode Zero. I simply replaced reams of paper files for digitized ones.

[2] Yes, it's another James Bond reference, but I chose that particular pistol for Hilde because I figure she's a Bond fan. I chose the P22-5120300 for Relena because it's lightweight (1.1 pounds at the most without the clip) and has a lighter trigger pull weight (how much weight/pressure it takes to pull the trigger), making it an easier gun for her to handle.

[3] Head canon of what happened to Zechs between Episodes 18 & 19.

[4] A capsule synopsis of most of Episode Zero, told in the first person.

[5] Refers to Turkish coffee.

**Next Chapter: **More information on Kronus comes to light, plans are made, and Trowa finds a way to keep the enemy from tracking Quatre.

**Next, on **_**Gundam Wing: Let Slip the Gods of War - Twilight**_**.**


End file.
